Remembrance
by blucougar57
Summary: Follow on story from Deliverance and Blood Moon. Detectives Goren and Eames relive the worst experience of their lives while working on a joint task force with the team from SVU. Finished for now.
1. An Unexpected Reward

_**A/N:**_ What to do, what to do…? This was originally intended to be a little post-script, to be tacked on to the end of Blood Moon. But then I read Shellster's comment about continuing it on and, after some consideration over whether I could do that without dragging on the same old plot lines, I decided the postscript that I'd intended for Blood Moon served as a very nice springboard and opening for another story.

So the big question was, do I cut things off relatively neatly? Or do I jump into the deep end once more and commit myself to another story? Answer: I jump in the deep end, of course. Apparently head-first.

I _had_ planned on getting stuck into 'Nightmare', but this whole drama has sucked me in like damned quicksand. There's just no escaping it…

**Point of reference:** if you have not already read my other stories 'Deliverance' and 'Blood Moon', I suggest that you do so before reading this, otherwise it probably won't make sense at all.

**Disclaimer:** Dick Wolf owns all Law & Order characters, and pretty much anything relating to said characters and franchises. I am but a poor, unknown and unpublished author. Don't sue me, there's no point. Really.

* * *

_Major Case Squad,  
One Police Plaza.  
Four months on..._

Bobby Goren made his way slowly into the bullpen of the Major Case Squad offices. He'd arrived at work alone that morning, opting to catch a cab as Alex had taken the morning off for her nephew's birthday. He had been invited to join the Eames family, but had politely declined. He had instead sent along a gift care of Alex.

It wasn't that he felt unwelcome with the family, far from it. The plain and boring truth was that he had a mile-high pile of paperwork to do, and with daily physio sessions to consider he just couldn't afford the time off.

He crossed the floor, taking extra care to ensure the walking stick didn't catch on anything. The embarrassment factor aside, he really couldn't afford to risk a fall. He grimaced to himself as he reached his desk. He'd used up too much luck over the last several months to be wanting to take anymore chances.

Wrestling off his coat and slinging it over the coat rack, Bobby finally sank into his chair with relief. As grateful as he was to be out of hospital and back at work (again), his injuries guaranteed that he couldn't go for more than a few hours without running out of steam. Even the effort of merely getting to One Police Plaza in the morning was enough to tire him out.

Swallowing a sigh, Bobby turned his attention to the paperwork. With a bit of luck, he'd have the bulk of it completed by lunch, giving him the chance to relax a little during the afternoon. His hand froze mid-air, halfway to the waiting paperwork, as his gaze fell on a velvet box that sat innocuously in the middle of his desk, along with a plain white envelope.

Bobby stared at the unidentified items with growing curiosity. He glanced upwards, then back over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Deakins watching him from his office, but the captain's door was shut, and the blinds closed.

Returning his attention to the mysterious items in front of him, Bobby picked up the envelope and opened it up.

Two sheets of paper slipped out, one bearing formal letterhead and typed print along with what Bobby instantly recognised as the royal seal of the House of Windsor. The other page bore the letterhead of the Denton Police Department, and was filled with neat handwriting.

_Dear Bobby, the content of this box is the result of a long discussion between your captain and my superintendent, and consequent discussions between Mr Mullett and various relevant authorities. We understand that this may not be officially recognised by your department, but be assured that certain allowances have been made to guarantee that all is quite official at our end.  
__We know that neither you nor Alex asked for this. Please accept it, though, as a mark of respect to the bravery you both showed, not only in bringing David Graham to justice but also in finding the courage to come to our aid in the first place. We will always be sincerely grateful for your help.  
__Sincerely,_

_Detective Inspector Jack Frost_

_P.S., Graham pled guilty to four counts of murder, four counts of attempted murder, one count of abduction, four counts of false imprisonment, and five counts of assaulting police officers. I shan't go into details of his sentencing two weeks ago, suffice to say that he will never see daylight outside prison walls again._

Bobby sat back a little, his breath escaping him in a relieved sigh. A moment later, a thought struck him and he looked up quickly. Sure enough, there was an identical velvet box and white envelope sitting on Alex's desk.

Curiosity finally overcoming him, he picked up the box and looked inside.

"You deserve it, you know."

Bobby looked around, startled out of his trance-like state minutes later by the voice behind him. It was Carver, and he had a small, knowing smile on his lips.

"Captain Deakins told me about what happened, Detective. There can be no doubt whatsoever that you and Detective Eames saved his life, and at great risk to your own. It's just a pity that our city won't recognise this honour."

Bobby looked back down at the George Cross medal, feeling his face flush red with embarrassment.

"We're not looking for praise."

"I know that, Detective, but I have to say that I'm glad at least one side has acknowledged everything you and Detective Eames did."

Bobby watched as Carver walked away before returning his attention to the medal. He knew what the George Cross was. It was the second highest award for gallantry in the United Kingdom, and he also knew it was unheard of for someone who was not a citizen of the UK or the Commonwealth to be made a recipient.

He lifted the medal out of the box and turned it over.

_Awarded to Robert O Goren for courage above and beyond the call of duty._

He set the medal back down carefully inside the padded box and put it away in his top drawer, out of sight. He paused, glancing with a small smile at the box that sat on Alex's desk, then bent his head low over the desk as he got stuck into the waiting paperwork.

* * *

Alex arrived shortly after one, crossing the floor to their joined desks with a weary smile. Bobby smiled back in greeting. 

"How was the party?"

"Great," she enthused as she hung up her coat. "He's getting so big now, Bobby. You really should have come. He asked after you, you know."

Bobby regarded her in mild amusement.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Wanted to know why Uncle Bobby wasn't coming to his birthday."

Bobby laughed softly and shook his head.

"As much as I love the kid, Uncle Bobby has the mother load of paperwork to do, unlike Aunty Alex, who somehow managed to completely clear her pile before we left for the hospital yesterday."

Alex smiled, and leaned over to kiss him affectionately on the temple. She took care to avoid his cheek; the wound caused by David Graham's knife was healing well but still tender to the touch, even four months after the fact. Bobby's doctor had explained the reason for that was because the facial nerves that were damaged by the blade would take time to heal. It was going to leave a scar, no doubt, but Bobby had been less than concerned about that. When pressed on the issue by their counsellors, he had simply answered that it was a small price to pay for stopping Graham from killing Jack. The subject had not been raised again.

Still smiling, Alex returned to her side of the desk, and dropped into her chair.

"What's this?" she asked, finally seeing the box sitting on her desk.

"What's what?"

Alex looked up at her partner, but he had his nose buried in his paperwork once more, and wasn't looking at her. Shaking her head in mock annoyance, she picked up the box and opened it up.

In the silence that followed, Bobby looked up again slowly, a smile fighting its way onto his face as he took in her stunned expression.

"It's the George Cross," he offered finally. Alex looked up at him, looking even more astonished.

"That's what Jack was awarded that time when he was shot stopping that gunman…"

Bobby nodded. "That's right."

"But… He said it was the second highest honour in the UK… after the Victoria Cross…"

"Right," Bobby confirmed again, still grinning.

"Then how…?"

He indicated the envelope that accompanied the medal.

"Read the letter."

She did so. Finally, minutes later, she sat back with a thud.

"Oh boy… I knew Deakins talked to Mullett about something like this, but I never thought they'd actually go ahead with it."

"Did you look at the back of the medal?" Bobby asked.

She stared at him for a moment, then looked down. Her eyes widened when she saw the inscription. A moment later, she looked up at him quickly.

"Did you…?"

He nodded, and produced his own medal from the desk drawer. Alex looked around at Deakins' office.

"Was he watching for you when you came in this morning?"

"No," Bobby said. "I haven't seen him at all. I'm pretty sure he's in there, but he hasn't come out once."

The two detectives stared at each other for a long moment before getting to their feet simultaneously and, in silent, mutual agreement, headed across to Deakins' office.

* * *

Alex rapped once on the door of Deakins' office, waiting just a moment before going in. Deakins looked up from his desk as they came in, a wry smile on his face.

"I was expecting to see you a lot sooner, Bobby."

"He thought he'd wait and have fun watching my reaction," Alex retorted. "Captain, we didn't ask for this. We were just doing our jobs…"

"You did far more than just that, Alex. You both saved my life… and you saved Jack's life, Bobby."

Bobby looked genuinely embarrassed. "Well, he saved mine. It was a mutual thing."

"What about Jack, anyway?" Alex asked with a frown. "If anyone should be getting acknowledgment, it ought to be him."

"Don't worry," Deakins reassured her. "I spoke to Norman Mullett last night. Jack now has a matching pair of George Crosses, although apparently the more recently acquired one is going to be framed and mounted in his office. It won't be joining the other one in his desk drawer. According to reliable sources, the good Inspector is willing to concede that he did legitimately earn it this time."

"I'll say he did," Bobby muttered. Deakins regarded him thoughtfully.

"You do remember what happened, don't you?"

Bobby nodded, and with his gaze fixed firmly on the floor, he missed the surreptitious, knowing looks exchanged between Deakins and his partner.

Right from the start, the detective had insisted that he remembered nothing of that last incident beyond tackling Graham, but both Alex and Deakins had long suspected otherwise. Now, they knew they had been right in their suspicions.

"Yeah. I didn't at first, but I do now." He was silent for a long moment before elaborating. "I remember tackling Graham and falling down that slope. Graham was lying next to me, not moving… But I knew he was faking. I saw him pull that knife out to use on whoever came down to us. When Jack came, I tried to warn him, but I couldn't even speak, let alone move. Then Graham attacked Jack, and stabbed him in the shoulder… He was going to kill him, I was sure of that. I don't know where I found the strength to pull Graham off him. All I know is that I managed to do that, but then I didn't have the strength to fight him off myself. Then Jack clubbed Graham in the head with that branch…"

Deakins smiled, and chuckled softly. "That's another thing Mullett told me. Graham's lawyer made a formal complaint of police brutality, and tried to have charges filed against Jack over it."

"They didn't, did they?" Alex asked, frowning darkly. Deakins' grin widened.

"Mullett threatened to send photos of Graham's handiwork – including pictures of _our_ injuries – to every newspaper that would publish them, along with the statement that if it weren't for Jack, we'd be dead. Apparently the Powers That Be backed down very quickly, and the brutality allegation was very quickly quashed."

Bobby shook his head. "Mullett actually supporting Jack. Miracles do happen after all."

"More like he saw how you operate and got an attack of the guilts," Alex retorted to Deakins. The captain laughed.

"Let's think positive, people." He paused, looking from one to the other questioningly. "I know you've both been asked this a hundred times over, and please don't be angry with me for it, but I'm going to ask it again. Are you both okay? I mean, _really_ okay?"

Bobby and Alex exchanged glances.

"Yeah," Bobby confirmed finally, speaking for the both of them. "I think we are. Physical issues notwithstanding."

Deakins nodded in agreement, his eyes going briefly to the walking stick that he himself was still required to use.

"Well, I really can sympathise now. But I swear, Bobby, you had better not let me catch you walking around the office without yours."

An irritated look passed briefly over Bobby's face, mixed with reluctant resignation.

"Don't worry, Captain. I'll be a good boy, I promise."

"No need to be smart about it, Detective. Just be sure not to give Salinger any reason to get shirty over you. Because it's my ass that'll get nailed to the wall if that happens."

"Would that be before or after the Commissioner nails _his_ ass to the wall?" Alex inquired lightly, and a moment later all three of them were laughing.

The animosity of Chief of Detectives Gary Salinger towards Bobby and Alex had gradually turned into an ongoing soap opera, particularly since their return from Denton. The incident that Alex was alluding to specifically, though, took place in St Clare's less than a week after their return home. Funny though it had been, it had also resulted in Salinger hating the two detectives more than ever. Unfortunately for Salinger, and very fortunately for Bobby and Alex, he could do nothing to them without raising the ire of both the Police Commissioner and the Mayor. So, for the time being at least, they were safe from his wrath.

Less than a week after coming home, Alex had gone to see Bobby in hospital and, after some cajoling and some outright begging, the doctor had conceded to allowing Bobby to leave his bed so they could both visit their captain. Whilst they had been with Deakins, Salinger had arrived and, effectively ignoring the presence of the two detectives, proceeded to issue Deakins with a formal reprimand for so-called inappropriate conduct and misuse of his authority whilst in Denton.

Later, Alex would admit that she'd been grateful that Bobby had been confined to the wheelchair, under strict orders from his formidable doctor not to stand or walk under any circumstances. Otherwise, she suspected that he might just have gotten up and punched Salinger out. As it was, she'd had a hard time not doing that herself.

As it turned out, any retaliation on their part had been unnecessary. In the middle of Salinger's rant, a new visitor had arrived – Police Commissioner Gerald Adkins. What had followed effectively provided the two hospital-bound police officers with enough entertainment to last them a month.

"_Salinger? What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

_Salinger spun around, caught totally off-guard by the sudden appearance of his immediate superior. _

"_C… Commissioner… What are you doing here?"_

"_Last time I checked my job specs, Salinger, I had to explain my actions to the Mayor. Not to you. Now answer my question. What do you think you're doing?"_

_Salinger's expression had turned positively stony by then. It was a well-known fact that the man could not stand to be chastised in front of anyone, especially subordinate officers. Particularly when those subordinate officers were Bobby Goren and Alex Eames…_

"_I'm here to issue a formal reprimand to Captain Deakins for his questionable conduct while in Britain, and for his failure to adequately control or monitor the behaviour and actions of his detectives." Salinger shot Bobby and Alex a harsh glare. "I'll get to the two of you later."_

"_No, you won't."_

_Salinger looked around sharply at Adkins, and visibly winced under the force of the other man's glare. _

"_Sir…" Salinger started to protest, but Adkins cut him off fiercely._

"_Don't even start, Gary. I mean it. Now, apparently unlike yourself, I took the steps of contacting the local DCS at Denton… that's Detective Chief Superintendent, Salinger, for your information… and if the so-called questionable conduct you're referring to is the manner in which a vicious serial killer was apprehended, then you and Superintendent Mullett have very different takes on what was or wasn't inappropriate. The bottom line is, Chief Salinger, the Denton authorities have nothing but praise for the conduct of Captain Deakins, Detective Goren and Detective Eames, and if you don't mind I'll go by Superintendent Mullett's version of events, since he was there and you weren't. Now, I would very much like for you to turn and walk yourself out of this room right now, before you make an even bigger ass of yourself than you already have."_

_Salinger tried just once more to assert his rapidly dwindling authority. _

"_Commissioner, I have the authority…"_

"_And I'm overruling that authority," Adkins snapped. "I don't know whose interests you think you're serving, but I want you out of here **now**. And I hope I don't have to spell out what you can do with that reprimand."_

It had only been with supreme effort that none of the three had laughed once Salinger left. Fortunately, Adkins had only stayed a few minutes himself, long enough to get an update on their physical conditions, and to insist that they all take as much time as they needed to recover before returning to work.

Only when Adkins had left, and Alex reported that he was out of sight and out of earshot, did they finally give in and explode with laughter. They had still been laughing uncontrollably when Deakins' wife arrived ten minutes later.

"Seriously," Deakins insisted, though he was still grinning, both at Alex's retort and the memories said retort elicited. "I want both of you to take care, okay? Don't do anything stupid that might mess up your rehab. You especially, Bobby."

Smirking, Alex got up and stepped towards the door. Bobby was about to follow her when Logan's face appeared in the doorway.

"Thought you might like the heads up," he said quickly. "Angie from downstairs just called me. She said the Chief of Detectives just went past security and is on his way up here."

"That's it," Alex growled. "Grab your walking stick, Bobby. We're out of here."

"Thanks, Logan," Deakins said appreciatively. And then to Bobby and Alex, "If you two want to avoid him, I suggest you go hide in the break room, and then slip out to the lifts when he gets to my office."

"This is so juvenile," Bobby said dryly, and succeeded in winning himself a threatening look from his partner.

"If you want to stay and deal with him, be my guest, but don't you dare drag me down with you. I didn't spend the morning with my nephew just to have that jerk spoil the rest of the day."

"Go on, both of you," Deakins ordered them, struggling not to laugh openly. "Go take a long lunch break. A _really_ long lunch break. I'll fill you on everything later."

Exchanging amused grins, the two detectives went to do as they'd been told.

* * *

_tbc_...


	2. Ultimatums

_A/N_: Since I know nothing about Carolyn Barak, Logan's new partner, I've decided to continue on with my Logan/Bishop pairing. I'm not going to try and nail a character that I literally know nothing about.  
Sorry this part took a while to post. I kept getting interrupted in the process of writing it, and this story is slightly more difficult than Deliverance or Blood Moon, because I started it without a crystal clear idea of where it was going.

* * *

Deakins watched until Bobby and Alex had disappeared into the relative safety of the tea room before returning his attention to the paperwork in front of him. He had to agree with Bobby, of course. It _was_ juvenile for them to be hiding from Salinger, but he also believed it better that they not be around for whatever bullshit the Chief of Detectives was here to spout.

Deakins sorely missed Salinger's predecessor, Dave Harrison, and he knew he was not alone. With the exception of the bureaucratic pencil-pushers on the fourteenth floor, the general opinion was that Salinger was a useless moron.

He had taken over as Chief of Detectives not quite eighteen months ago, just a short while before Erik Mathers had abducted Bobby and Alex. Dave Harrison had finally retired after fifty years on the Force, and ten years as Chief of Detectives. He was well-respected by all, but in particular by the fraternity of NYPD detectives. How Salinger had worked his way into the job, no one was quite sure. All they knew was that the man seemed to have his lips locked permanently to the Mayor's ass. The only saving grace was Police Commissioner Adkins, who knew what a prick Salinger really was and worked his ass off to counter the other man's constant negative influence.

What caused the biggest problem for a high profile squad like Major Case, though, was the knowledge that Salinger hated with a passion any cop that dared to have a higher public profile than himself, intentional or not. Needless to say, Bobby Goren and Alex Eames were at the top of Salinger's hit list.

A smirk tugged insistently at Deakins' lips. Ever since the Mathers case, Salinger had had it in for the two detectives. Their abduction, rescue and everything that came between had turned them into rather unwilling celebrities. Salinger's rancour towards them had sky-rocketed, though, in the wake of a very public incident that had taken place whilst Bobby and Alex had both still been in hospital after being rescued from near death on Gore Mountain.

In the hopes of promoting his own public profile, Salinger had contacted the Executives at the Letterman Show, and offered to front up for a live interview about Bobby and Alex's ordeal. The word was that he had been turned down very abruptly – popular opinion was that it was on the grounds that Salinger had the personality of a sloth. Whether that part was true or not didn't matter, but to rub salt in the wound, Letterman himself had apparently contacted Commissioner Adkins the very next day, begging him to arrange an interview with Bobby and Alex, live out of the hospital, if need be.

Even though the Commissioner had politely refused out of respect for the two detectives who, at that point, were still suffering grievously, it didn't stop them from becoming the poster boy and girl for the NYPD. For months afterwards, whenever the Department wanted to put forward a positive image of a courageous, self-sacrificing police force, it was Bobby and Alex whose images were presented. It was common knowledge, particularly within the confines of the Major Case Squad, that Salinger had never forgiven the detectives for usurping him as the public face of the Department.

The door rattled loudly as it was opened forcefully, and Deakins looked up in time to see Salinger stomp in.

"Where are they?"

Deakins sat back slowly, watching Salinger in bemusement.

"Good afternoon to you, too, Sir."

"I don't have time to exchange pleasantries, Deakins. Where are they?"

"Where are who?"

Salinger glared at him.

"Your pet detectives, Deakins, who else? Where are Goren and Eames?"

"Lunch break," Deakins answered dismissively.

"Lunch break?"

"Yes. Last time I checked, they were still entitled to one."

"Don't get smart with me. I don't have the time. Now, get on the phone and call them back."

Deakins made no effort to reach for his phone.

"No."

Salinger blanched.

"Excuse me…?"

"You heard me. I said no. Whatever you've got to say, you can say it to me. I'll pass it on to them when they come back."

Salinger leaned across the desk, still glaring at the captain.

"Newsflash, Deakins. Adkins is in Paris for a month. No one's around to get your back. As acting Commissioner, I'm the one with the authority right now, and you _will_ heed me. Now, call them back!"

With obvious reluctance, Deakins picked up the phone and hit speed dial for Alex's cell phone. He was not especially surprised to get the recorded message of her voicemail. He tried Goren's, and got the same result. Fighting the urge to grin, he hung up and looked back at Salinger.

"They have their phones switched off. Sorry."

Salinger was starting to look as though he might bust a valve.

"Goddamn it, Deakins…"

"Why don't you just cut them some slack?" Deakins asked tersely. "Whatever it is you came for, just say it to me. I'll pass it on when they get back."

Salinger stood there frowning for a long moment before a grin slowly spread over his face, sending a slight chill down Deakins' spine. Finally, he sat with a soft thud.

"All right. I can be reasonable. If you want it done that way, then that's how we'll do it. You want to be the one to tell them? Fine by me."

By that time, Deakins was starting to feel distinctly nervous. It was with some effort that he kept his expression neutral, and his voice level.

"How about you tell me what it is that you're so damned eager to say, so I can get back to work?"

To Deakins' consternation, Salinger's grin actually widened a little.

"There have been half a dozen women murdered upstate, and it's more than the local troopers can handle. Apparently, the women were all sexually assaulted prior to being killed, and the local lieutenant is friends with Don Cragen, so he called and asked for help. After consulting with me, Cragen agreed to send one of his teams to run the investigation."

"What does any of this have to do with Major Case?" Deakins asked, struggling now to conceal his growing irritation.

"I'm assigning Goren and Eames to the task force."

Deakins stared at Salinger, confused and concerned. He sensed there was something in this that he wasn't seeing yet, and it was starting to worry him greatly.

"Why do you need Goren and Eames to be a part of this taskforce? Sounds like it was made for SVU."

"Well, it looks like there could be some similarities between this current case, and the Mathers case. I looked it over, and it looks to me that there's a strong possibility that someone is deliberately copycatting aspects of the Mathers case."

Deakins felt that chill race through his body once more.

"If you want to include detectives familiar with the Erik Mathers case, then you'd be better off sending Logan and Bishop. They led the investigation that ended in us finding and rescuing Goren and Eames. They're familiar with everything to do with it…"

"No," Salinger said calmly. "I think I want to send Goren and Eames. They do have that first-hand experience, after all."

It was all Deakins could do to maintain his calm.

"If you're doing this purely out of spite…"

Salinger smiled coldly.

"Not at all, Captain. As I said, I've reviewed the case, and the similarities are strong enough that I honestly believe Detective Goren and Detective Eames will have quite a significant contribution to make. Their experience is invaluable, after all."

Deakins had to make a conscious effort to loosen his jaw.

"Exactly where is it that these murders have happened?"

Salinger's smile widened, and he made no effort to conceal his cruel delight.

"It's in the Adirondack mountain range. Specifically, Gore Mountain."

Deakins sat rigidly in his chair, his breath literally freezing in his throat. Salinger said nothing, just continued to sit and watch with vicious pleasure as the Major Case captain processed what he had just heard.

"I must be more tired than I realised," Deakins said finally. "I could have sworn you said Gore Mountain. But I must have misheard you, because even you couldn't be that vindictive."

"You heard right, Captain. I did indeed say Gore Mountain."

Deakins shifted forward slowly in his chair.

"No… No… Goddamn it, no!" he exploded. "You can't send them back there, Salinger! Damn it, you can't!"

Salinger continued to smile, and Deakins had to consciously fight a sudden, powerful desire to get up and throttle the smug bastard.

"Just watch me, Deakins."

"No," Deakins said again. "I won't make them go back there, not for any reason."

"The decision is not in your hands. I'm not letting you give them an option, not this time. They are going back there, and that is the only option open to them." Salinger glanced at his watch. "I asked Don Cragen to come with his two lead detectives, Benson and Stabler. They should be here soon. Now, I suspect that you probably do know where Goren and Eames are, or at least have a pretty good idea. I suggest you send someone out to get them. Then, when they get back, you can tell them the news, just like you wanted.

Deakins stared across the desk at Salinger, white-faced with anger.

"You son of a bitch. It's not enough to put them through this. No, you have to go and display their trauma for everyone to see."

"Trauma my ass," Salinger snapped. "Ever since they were rescued from that damned mountain, you've treated them with kid gloves, and it's time to stop. They are going to go back to that mountain and deal with it, or they can start looking for a new line of employment. Oh, and this _will_ be the last time they work together. When they come back, they're each to be assigned a new partner. Or _you_ can start looking for a new job. Am I making myself clear, Captain Deakins?"

Deakins got up, snatching up his walking stick in fast-building anger.

"Absolutely transparent as hell. Are you done? Good. Now it's my turn. You might be able to force Goren and Eames into going back to that place, and I'm sure you're probably hoping it might crush them entirely, but don't you dare think you can bully me into separating them. You try that, and I swear I will personally charter a plane if need be to bring Adkins back from Paris. Goren and Eames' partnership is one of the best in the entire NYPD, and if you think you can get away with separating them while Adkins has his back turned, think again. I'll go to the media, if I have to, and if you think you've been getting bad publicity lately, just wait until it hits the headlines that you tried to split them up because of a grudge over who is getting the most media exposure. You might be able to force them into returning to Gore Mountain, but don't you think for a second that you have the authority to force me to split them up. Because it is not going to happen. Am _I_ making myself clear?"

Salinger's eyes had narrowed to pinpoints.

"You're not always going to be around to get their backs, Deakins. I'll warn you now, I'm going to make sure they're watched with an eagle eye while they're away from here, and if there's anything at all inappropriate in their behaviour, particularly towards each other, I promise I'll see them split up, whatever the cost."

The two men stood glaring at each other for a long moment before Deakins turned and headed for the door.

"Excuse me."

He then stalked out of his office before he could give into the temptation to pull his gun and shoot the man.

* * *

"Captain's coming," Bishop murmured as Deakins made his way towards her and Logan's desks. "He looks really, really pissed off."

"Not surprising," Logan murmured. "Salinger has that effect on most people."

He didn't have the chance to elaborate. Deakins reached their adjoined desks, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath before speaking.

"What does that idiot Salinger want?" Logan asked once Deakins had focused on them. The captain hesitated, considering what to say.

"I need one of you to go and get Bobby and Alex, and bring them back. You'll find them up the road at Belle's Diner."

"What's going on?" Bishop asked as Logan immediately got up. Deakins regarded them both grimly.

"Let's just say that with Commissioner Adkins out of the country, Salinger's decided to sink his hooks in as deep as he can. The proverbial is about to hit the fan, and it's going to be very, very ugly."

"What does Salinger want with them?" Logan asked, frowning. Deakins glanced back at his office before speaking.

"He's hooking them up to a task force to work with SVU on a string of murders. But it isn't the 'what' that's the problem. It's the 'where'. The murders all happened in the Adirondacks, on Gore Mountain."

Logan and Bishop stared at Deakins in open-mouthed shock.

"Gore Mountain…?" Logan echoed finally in disbelief. "Not the same Gore Mountain where they were nearly killed by that psycho Mathers?"

"The same," Deakins confirmed grimly.

"Is he out of his fucking mind?" Logan blurted out, drawing startled looks from the other detectives around them.

"I'd like to think so," Deakins admitted. "But I'm afraid the truth is that he's just a sadistic bastard, plain and simple. He claims these murders are similar to the Mathers case, but I'm betting that's just a smokescreen. He's doing it to try and do as much damage as he can to Bobby and Alex. Problem is that he might just succeed this time."

"You aren't actually going to make them go, are you?" Bishop asked incredulously.

"He hasn't left me with a choice. The bottom line is that they go, or Salinger will have them fired."

"That lousy son of a bitch," Logan growled as he grabbed his coat. "Okay, I'll go get them, but you go back and tell Salinger that we're going, too. He might be trying to hang Goren and Eames out to dry, but we aren't going to let them deal on their own."

Bishop was on her feet by then, also pulling on her coat.

"_We'll_ go get them. Do you think Salinger would mind if we spoil his fun by forewarning them?"

Deakins smiled faintly.

"Be my guest. But please, go about it carefully. I don't want them coming back and telling me they quit, either."

"Don't worry about that," Logan told him. "Just be sure to tell Salinger that we're going, too. He's not getting a choice about that. And if he doesn't like it, he can shove it up his ass. If he kicks up a stink about it, just remind him that the journalist from the New York Post that ran the series of articles about Goren and Eames back when Mathers grabbed them is a good friend of mine. I'm sure he'd love to hear about this latest development."

Deakins watched as they left, then turned and headed back to his office, feeling the first hints of relief that maybe, with Logan and Bishop's added support, the situation wouldn't turn out to be as bad as he was anticipating.

* * *

"Maybe we should have left our phones on," Alex mused as she sipped at her coffee. Bobby smiled, and shook his head.

"You don't think we should have any more than I do. Odds are, Salinger will demand that Deakins try to call us…"

"Assuming he was there because of us in the first place," Alex put in. Bobby regarded her with an amused grin.

"You were the one who wanted to run and hide, remember."

She sighed. "Maybe I just feel guilty about leaving Deakins to take the heat. Salinger is such an asshole…"

"Deakins can handle Salinger," Bobby murmured, nodding thanks to the waitress as she set a large schnitzel salad sandwich in front of him. "Even without Adkins around to keep him on the leash…"

Alex sighed again as she bit into her own sandwich.

"Why can't the creep just leave us alone to do our job?"

"He hates anyone who's more famous than he is," Bobby murmured. "Unfortunately, we qualify."

"It isn't as though we asked for it," Alex argued. "What happened wasn't our fault. We could just as easily have been killed, and then we would have been two famous _dead_ cops."

He reached across the table, and grasped her hand gently.

"It turned out all right. Don't think about what might have happened. You'll just give yourself nightmares."

She stared at him miserably.

"And how, exactly, would that be different from every other night?"

"Bad night again?" he asked softly. "Want to talk about it?"

The invitation to talk was a mere formality. On any other day they would have met first thing in the morning to get coffee and bagels, and talk about any bad dreams they'd had through the night. This morning, of course, that routine had been thrown out because Alex had been late in. Consequently, neither one had had the chance to talk about their nightmares.

"I woke up… and we were in that room again. Tied up… in the dark… cold and hungry. And we could hear him laughing at us… Except, it wasn't just Erik. This time, it was his father, as well. They were both there, laughing and talking about how they were going to kill us. The thing is… When I woke up, I could still feel the ropes around my wrists, and ankles… And my whole body felt sore, like it did when we first woke up outside."

Bobby nodded in wordless sympathy, reaching across and gently taking her hands in his own, stopping her from the subconscious motion of rubbing at her wrists. Her wrists still bore the visible scars of the two days they had spent in captivity in Erik Mathers' cabin. Gently, he traced the white, ropy scars around her wrists, then looked back up at her with sad understanding.

"At least you can cover yours up with your shirt cuffs," Alex said softly, though not bitterly. Bobby hesitated, then pulled his shirt sleeves up to reveal almost identical scars around his own wrists. He stared at them for a long moment before pushing the cuffs back down, covering them up once more. Then, he offered her a crooked smile.

"Maybe, but at least you don't have a dirty big scar across your face."

Alex paused, her gaze going to the recently formed scar across his right cheek.

"It's not so bad," she said with a small smile. "It adds character."

He grinned, quietly pleased to have gotten a smile out of her.

"Character? That's not what my mom called it when I visited her on Saturday."

Alex regarded him in surprise.

"You got someone to take you to Carmel Ridge?"

"An old friend offered."

"Who? Lewis?"

"No. Someone else. Someone who knows her. Just… an old friend."

She decided not to press for details.

"So how was she?"

He smiled a small, sad smile and touched his fingertips very lightly to the scar on his face.

"Thanks to this, she thought it was Halloween, and spent the whole day waiting for kids to come trick or treating."

She laughed softly, and he joined in.

"All in all, it was one of her better days," he said simply, and Alex nodded in understanding. In other words, she had been neither abusive nor violent.

Alex looked away wearily, out the window. She knew it was good… no, not good. It was _healthy_ for them to talk about it whenever they felt they were able, but the truth was it wasn't easy for either one of them. Not for Bobby, who had had years of practise at hiding his true emotions, and burying trauma as deep as possible within his psyche, and not for herself, who had been brought up under the belief that to show emotion was to show weakness.

So their talks came in stilted dribs and drabs. Some days, one would have more to say than the other. On others they would both contribute. It was a slow and often painful process, and still there seemed to be no end to the horrible nightmares that plagued their subconscious minds. The only nights either one of them had been fortunate enough to be spared the frightening dreams were the nights that they spent together, holding each other and sleeping in each others' arms purely for mutual comfort and safety. It was truly the only times they felt completely safe and secure, and the only other person on the face of the planet who knew they sometimes resorted to that was their captain.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one who goes spacey."

Alex looked back at him, puzzled.

"Hmm?"

"You were somewhere else totally. What were you thinking about?"

Alex sighed softly. "I haven't had more than three hours sleep at a time for nearly a week. I'm tired, Bobby."

"You want to come to my place tonight?"

She nodded without hesitation.

"Yeah. I'll bring the beer."

He smiled ruefully. "You do, and you'll be the only one drinking it."

"_Root_ beer, Bobby," she elaborated, rolling her eyes. "You don't really think I'd do that to you, do you? And don't you dare answer that."

"You're making assumptions," he chided her gently. "You know what happened the last time one of us did that."

"Yeah. I nearly threw a plastic brick at your head."

Bobby chuckled softly, but whatever he'd been about to reply with was lost before he could say it as he spotted two familiar figures turn off the sidewalk and head for the diner's entrance.

"What are they doing here…?"

Alex looked around just as the door of the diner opened and Bishop and Logan walked in. The two detectives quickly spotted them, and walked over.

"Please tell us you're here because Deakins sent Salinger packing?" Alex pleaded with little hope. Logan smiled sympathetically.

"No such luck. Can we sit down?"

Bobby and Alex both nodded, and Bishop slid into the booth beside Bobby while Logan sat next to Alex.

"So what's going on?" Alex asked, looking from Logan to Bishop. The two newest additions to the Major Case Squad looked wordlessly at each other before Logan spoke quietly.

"We know what Salinger wants. Deakins gave us the okay to tell you… but you guys have got to promise to try and keep your cool, okay? Don't go ballistic, and do anything stupid…"

"Like what?" Bobby asked suspiciously.

"Like quitting," Bishop said, suddenly wishing she was sitting next to Alex rather than Bobby.

"Will you knock it off with the cryptic answers?" Alex demanded. "Just tell us!"

"All right," Logan conceded. "Here's the thing… Salinger's hooking you both up to a joint taskforce to investigate a series of murders."

Bobby and Alex exchanged glances.

"Okay," Bobby said slowly. "Who are we supposed to be working with?"

"SVU," Bishop said.

"Benson and Stabler, by the looks of it," Logan added. "We spotted them going into One Police Plaza with Don Cragen as we came out."

Bobby gave a slight shrug.

"Okay," he said again. "We're not exactly best friends, but…"

"That's not the issue," Logan interrupted grimly. "Look, there's just no easy way to tell you this. These murders you'll be investigating… They all happened upstate."

Bobby and Alex froze, the blood literally draining from their faces as their minds rapidly leapt to the same conclusion at the same time.

"You don't mean…" Alex said, but trailed off as Bishop nodded in grim confirmation.

"Gore Mountain, in the Adirondacks," Logan said quietly, looking worriedly from Bobby to Alex. Silence met his words. Neither Bobby nor Alex spoke or moved. They simply sat in complete silence, staring intently at each other.

"Are either of you going to say something?" Logan asked tentatively. "Anything?"

"We can't go back there," Alex said softly, her voice barely audible. She never took her eyes of Bobby, and Logan and Bishop both had the distinct feeling that it was as if they were suddenly non-existent as far as the two senior detectives were concerned.

"Deakins said Salinger wasn't leaving you any choice," Bishop said.

"But we told him to tell Salinger that we're going with you," Logan told them firmly. "And if Salinger doesn't like it, he can…"

"Didn't you hear me?" Alex snapped, the volume of her voice rising considerably and drawing the attention of other patrons and the two waitresses. "I said we can't go back there. Not ever. Not negotiable."

Logan looked across at Bobby. The other man returned his stare for a long moment before looking away out the window, still saying nothing. He didn't need to, Logan thought unhappily. The look on his face spoke louder and more clearly than anything he might have tried to say aloud.

"Look," Bishop said with just a hint of desperation in her voice, "Salinger is just looking for a reason to string you two up. Don't give it to him. You can do this… We'll back you up, okay? You don't have to deal with it on your own."

"That sounds really nice," Alex said caustically. "Gosh, I never realised it was so simple. Did you hear that, Bobby? We've got Logan and Bishop to back us up…"

"Stop it, Alex," Bobby said softly, silencing her more effectively with his soft words than any pleading from Logan or Bishop might have done. He went on, his voice never lifting above a murmur. "It's not their fault. They're just trying to help. We should be more appreciative."

Alex's shoulders slumped.

"You're right. I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," Bishop murmured. "We understand, really."

"Salinger's still back there?" Bobby asked. Logan nodded.

"Yeah. And just for the record, the last time I saw Deakins that pissed off was when that idiot lieutenant gave us the run-around when we were searching for the two of you."

"And he's expecting us back there straight away?" Bobby asked. Again, Logan nodded.

"Look… I won't say not to take this the wrong way… There's only one way to take this, but Salinger threatened to have you both fired if you refuse to go."

A strangled sound of frustration and distress escaped Alex, and while Bobby never uttered a sound, the hand that came up to cover his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose was a very telling gesture.

"He's a slimy bastard," Logan said quietly, "but he's the one holding the cards at the moment. I know you don't want to hear this, but I don't think you have a choice."

"We _could_ always quit," Alex muttered.

"You do that," Logan countered, "and you'll be handing Salinger victory on a gold platter. Don't do it, Eames. Don't let that asshole win. Not like that."

Bobby sighed, then, a barely audible sound but there all the same, and reached for his walking stick.

"All right. Let's get back and get this over with."

* * *

_tbc..._


	3. Confrontations and Confessions

A/N: I decided to extend this chapter after realising that the section of text I'd written wasn't going to fit smoothly into the next planned chapter, but was too short to make into a chapter on its own.

* * *

Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler stood as close to the back wall of Deakins' office as possible, trying their best to keep a low profile. The fur had been flying in every direction from the moment they'd arrived, and all because of a completely innocent remark from Elliot, casually asking where Goren and Eames were.

Just between themselves, Olivia and Elliot were amazed that a physical fight had not erupted between Deakins and Salinger, the animosity was so thick.

"Damn it, Deakins," Salinger was snarling, "I said I wanted them back here right away! Just what the hell did you tell Logan and Bishop to say to them?"

Deakins didn't so much as flinch in the face of Salinger's fury.

"I told you, they went out to lunch. Now, unless you're offering to send your own car to pick them up, they'll have to walk back from wherever they might have gone to. Since Detective Goren is still severely restricted in his movement, I imagine it might take some time for them to get back here."

"Goren's still in a leg brace, then?" Cragen wondered, and Deakins nodded.

"Yes."

"You let him come back to work too soon, Jim," Cragen said, shaking his head. Deakins' expression hardened.

"Don't go there, Don. It's not your place to be making a judgment like that."

Cragen held up his hands defensively.

"Just making an observation, Jim, that's all. Don't take it personally. All I'm saying is that I don't think he should have come back to work while he still needs a leg brace to walk."

"He'll be in that leg brace for another twelve months or more," Deakins said coolly, pointedly ignoring Salinger. "Are you suggesting I should have put him on indefinite leave?"

Surprise filled Cragen's round face.

"Twelve months? I didn't realise it was that serious. Is he going to be able to manage?"

Deakins threw a threatening look in Salinger's direction, as though daring him to say something.

"I don't have any doubts about his physical capabilities," Deakins stated when Salinger opted to stay silent. "He can do the work. Don't think for a second that he can't."

Olivia and Elliot exchanged glances, each one thinking the same thing. It had been bad enough to be told they had to share the investigation with the Dynamic Duo of Major Case, but having to pander to Know-It-All Robert Goren hobbling around in a leg brace…?

"Here they come," Olivia announced suddenly as she spotted Bobby and Alex coming around the corner at the far end of the office, with Mike Logan and Lyn Bishop right behind them.

"Wow," Elliot muttered under his breath to Olivia as the detectives neared the office. "They really look pissed off."

He wasn't wrong. By the time Bobby and Alex got to the door of Deakins' office, their anger was plain for all to see. Even Deakins suddenly looked apprehensive, Olivia and Elliot both noticed silently. Only Salinger, in his arrogance, seemed oblivious to the potential danger from the two detectives.

A smug grin on his rat-like features, Salinger stood up to confront the detectives. Whatever he'd been planning to say, though, never made it past his lips.

Abandoning his walking stick to the floor as he crossed the threshold into Deakins' office, Bobby all but lunged across the floor, grabbing Salinger by the lapels of his jacket and slamming him up against the filing cabinet.

Cragen, Elliot and Logan all shot forward, struggling to separate the two, but Bobby had Salinger in a vice-like grip, and wasn't letting go.

"Deakins…" Salinger choked out, his face turning scarlet as Bobby effectively cut off the greater percentage of his vital air supply. "Get… Get him off me…"

Deakins hesitated in reacting, looking instead to Alex, who stood calmly just inside the doorway, watching the scene with obvious satisfaction. Waiting as long as he dared, Deakins finally turned back and spoke in a loud, firm voice.

"Goren, that's enough, let him go. He's not worth the exertion."

Bobby responded instantly to Deakins' order, falling back a few steps but still glaring at Salinger with outright hatred. Salinger glared right back, adjusting his shirt collar and tie as his face slowly started to return to its normal colour.

"Congratulations, Detective Goren," he said hoarsely. "You just won yourself a formal reprimand." He pointed to a nearby chair. "Now sit down before I decide to upgrade that to a suspension!"

Bobby, however, made no effort to move towards the chair. Instead, he continued to confront Salinger with an expression that would have planted fear in the bravest of hearts.

"Why?"

"What are you talking about?" Salinger growled, shifted nervously under the intensity of Bobby's stare.

"Why are you doing this to us?" Bobby demanded to know. Realisation dawned on Salinger's face, and the tiniest of smirks formed on his lips.

"I see. You think this is some conspiracy that I plotted against you and your partner. Deakins, when did you last send this man for a psyche evaluation?"

"Three weeks ago," Deakins answered sharply, "and he got a complete all-clear. Why don't you just try giving him a straight answer?"

Salinger grunted. "Fine. The bottom line is that there appears to be a serial killer on the loose in upstate New York. The… _experience_ that you and your partner have make you prime candidates to assist in the investigation."

To a lesser trained ear, the explanation might have sounded perfectly reasonable, but Bobby Goren was no amateur.

"Go to hell, you arrogant son of a bitch," Bobby snarled. Turning as abruptly as his leg brace allowed, he stormed out of the office, pausing only long enough to accept his walking stick back from Bishop, who had picked it up from where he'd discarded it.

Alex paused just briefly, sparing Deakins an apologetic look before turning and hurrying after her partner.

"That is the last straw!" Salinger exploded. "Deakins, I want him suspended! And I'll be filing a charge of assault, too. That behaviour is totally unacceptable!"

"I don't think you really want to do that, Chief," Logan said calmly as he rejoined Bishop. Salinger rounded on him angrily.

"Oh really, Logan? And why is that?"

"Well, you know how things tend to get back to the Press, and the Media… and you haven't exactly been the flavour of the month with them lately, have you? Goren and Eames, on the other hand… Now the Press absolutely _loves_ them at the moment. And with the way things get spread around, these days… I'd hate to say the wrong thing at the wrong time… And you know one of my closest buddies is Danny Walker, from the New York Post?"

Salinger visibly faltered. Danny Walker was the journalist who had followed the story of Bobby Goren and Alex Eames' abduction right from the first. It was he who was primarily responsible for the two detectives reaching such a high status in the public opinion, and keeping it there over the nine or ten months since their rescue from the mountain. Salinger knew just how much damage could be done to his own public image and career with just one carefully worded phone call from Logan to Walker. If, indeed, they were friends, and Salinger wasn't about to call Logan's bluff.

"Are you threatening me?" he asked finally, at a loss for anything else to say. Logan smiled innocently, a remarkable achievement for him.

"I wouldn't dream of threatening you, Sir. Just… giving a friendly reminder about how easily stories get out of hand when the Press gets a hold of them. I just thought you might be willing to cut Goren a little slack… you know, given the circumstances, and all."

Salinger had gone red in the face once more, this time from aggravation at the realisation that he had been backed very neatly into a corner by Logan, and in front of five witnesses, no less. Inwardly seething, he decided to act strategically and back down, at least for the time being.

"All right," he conceded brusquely. "Forget the suspension…"

Logan lifted a single eyebrow, and coughed. Salinger scowled.

"Okay, forget the reprimand, too." He looked across to Deakins. "Now, will you please go and bring them back here? We're wasting time."

Throwing Logan a grateful look, Deakins went to do as Salinger asked.

* * *

He found them sitting in a currently disused task room, Alex gently rubbing Bobby's back soothingly as they spoke together quietly. Silence fell abruptly as Deakins came in. He walked around, and Alex glanced up at him, causing a ripple of concern to go through him at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes.

"Just tell me one thing, Bobby," Deakins said as he pulled a chair over and sat down opposite the big detective. "Do you _want_ to get yourself fired?"

Bobby looked up at him slowly. The anger was gone, replaced now with a haunting look of grief and genuine fear. Sympathy flooded Deakins as he recalled Bobby's admission not all that long ago that the days he and Alex had spent in Mathers' captivity, and then actually on the run from Mathers, had been the most frightening of his life.

"You know I don't," Bobby said softly. "But how can we ever go back there? It was hard enough finding the courage to go to Denton. We can't go back to that mountain, Captain. We… We just can't."

Deakins sighed softly.

"I wish I could just say all right to that, but I can't. Not this time. With Adkins away, Salinger has the authority and there's no one to overrule him."

"He's trying destroy us," Alex whispered, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks. "That's all he wants. How are we going to survive this?"

Deakins was silent for a long moment, considering that before answering.

"I guess… the same way you survived before. Together."

Alex stared at him miserably. "Do you have any idea how it feels, being told we have to go back to that place? How sick and frightened it makes us feel?"

Deakins felt a fresh rush of anger towards Salinger that his detectives were being put through so much pain so unnecessarily.

"I can only imagine, Alex, and I'm so sorry about this. If I could do anything at all about it, I would. Look, I don't know if this will help at all, but you won't be alone. I've already told Salinger that I'm sending Logan and Bishop along as well. He didn't like it, but I didn't give him a choice."

Bobby nodded, and spoke tentatively. "They told us. Do… Do Benson and Stabler know? I mean… do they know where it is that we're supposed to be going?"

"I don't know if they're aware of the significance of the location," Deakins admitted. "Do you want them to be?"

"We'll just assume they do know," Bobby said quietly."We don't want their pity, or sympathy... but if they ask you, though... You can tell them."

Deakins glanced pointedly to the door.

"Ready to come back to my office?"

Alex nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"Just give us a couple of minutes?"

"Well, Salinger seemed to be in a pretty big hurry," Deakins mused. "And we wouldn't want him to bust an artery, would we? Sure. Take as long as you need."

Bobby and Alex laughed softly in appreciation of Deakins' efforts to lighten the mood. Favouring them with what he hoped was both an encouraging and reassuring smile, Deakins left them alone in the task room.

They watched him so in silence before returning their attention to each other.

"I don't want to do this, Bobby," Alex whispered. "Damn Salinger."

"I know," Bobby agreed. "These murders… I'd guess they're not anything we can really help with. Salinger probably took one look at the location, and saw an opportunity to try and break us. I suppose the question is, are we going to let him?"

She looked away from him unhappily.

"That's not the best question to be asking me right now, Bobby."

Bobby reached out and took her hands gently in his own.

"Last time we were faced with a decision like this, we made it out of concern for others. This time…"

"Don't compare the two," Alex warned him. "We had a genuine choice to make last time. This time, the only choice is go, or start looking for a new job."

"Do you want to quit?" he asked, and she blanched visibly.

"No more than you do."

"Well, then, what I was going to say was that this time we have to be thinking of ourselves, and no one else. We've taken care of each other up until now. I think we can keep doing that. We just both have to be willing to try."

Alex sighed faintly in defeat.

"Okay," she conceded quietly. "But I'm not doing it for anyone else. It's just us, that's all."

Bobby nodded in agreement.

"Just us. No one else."

He leaned in and pulled her close in a warm, protective hug.

"We'll be okay," he murmured. "We'll take care of each other. It'll be okay."

Alex didn't respond to that, but continued to hug him back fiercely.

* * *

"All I want to know is what the hell is going on?" Elliot grumbled.

He and Olivia were helping themselves to coffee while waiting for Bobby and Alex to resurface from wherever they'd disappeared to. Salinger had called for a short break when it became apparent that the two detectives were not hurrying back. He'd started to protest to Deakins once more about their attitude, only to quickly change his mind after briefly locking stares with Logan.

Olivia shook her head wordlessly. She was as much in the dark as he was.

"I mean," Elliot went on, "if this is how they're gonna act when we get upstate, then I'd just as soon not have them with us at all. We don't need them acting all precious whenever something happens that they don't like. I don't see why we need them, anyway. We can handle this case. I don't understand why Cragen even called Major Case in the first place."

"I didn't call them."

Olivia and Elliot both looked around as their captain joined them.

"Well, if you didn't call them, then who…?" Olivia wondered.

In answer, Cragen looked pointedly across the floor to where Salinger was standing just outside the door of Deakins' office. The Chief of Detectives was observing the Major Case bullpen with the air of someone who _thought_ they had the control.

"I thought Salinger hated Major Case," Olivia murmured. Cragen smiled grimly as he turned his attention back to his two best detectives.

"He does, there's no doubt about that. Major Case is too high profile for his liking. I know for a fact that he'd shut the squad down, if he thought he could get away with it."

"So if he hates it so much, how come he threw this case their way?" Elliot asked, still feeling sour at having to share.

Cragen shrugged a little. "Honestly? I really don't know. All I do know is that it wasn't to give them any favours. You both saw how Goren reacted when he and Eames came in."

"Yeah," Elliot grunted. "What was with _that_?"

"I don't know," Cragen admitted again. "But did you happen to notice Deakins' reaction to Goren's behaviour?"

"He wasn't surprised by it," Olivia said.

"Right," Cragen confirmed. "It was almost like he expected it. And then there's Logan's attitude. I've known him for a while, and he's not the type of guy who'd be buddies with a guy like Goren. And yet Logan jumped in to defend him when Salinger was ready to suspend him."

"Squad loyalty," Olivia suggested. "Major Case gave Logan a second chance, after all. He probably feels obliged to stand up for his own."

"Maybe, but I have a feeling it goes a bit beyond that. Logan's still on thin ice, and he knows it. I can't see him risking a choice position like this without a damned good reason. There's something going on here between the lines that we aren't seeing. I just wonder what, exactly, Salinger has told them about the case. I know enough about Goren and Eames to know that neither one of them would flip out like Goren did earlier over a case like this. They've handled enough of them themselves. No, there's something else going on here. You two met privately with Salinger yesterday afternoon. Did he say anything strange to you?"

At that, Olivia and Elliot exchanged wary looks. The truth was, Salinger had asked them to do something that neither was comfortable with, even taking into account the unspoken rivalry between the two squads.

"What did he say to you?" Cragen asked, frowning. Olivia spoke reluctantly.

"He asked us to keep an eye on Goren and Eames, and report any… inappropriate behaviour on their part."

"Inappropriate?" Cragen echoed. "Did he elaborate?"

"He just said inappropriate," Elliot said. "We don't know if he meant on a professional or a personal level."

Cragen's frown deepened.

"I'm starting to feel like we're being used by Salinger, and I don't like it."

"What it feels like," Elliot said in annoyance, "is that we've been caught in the middle of some sort of mini-war. Damn it, where in the hell are Goren and Eames?"

Olivia suddenly drew in a sharp breath, catching the attention of both her partner and her captain.

"They're over there, in that task room."

Cragen and Elliot both looked, and finally saw what Olivia had just seen. Bobby and Alex were, indeed, in the task room – currently holding each other in what looked to be a particularly… _close_ embrace. And, even as they watched, Bobby planted a gentle kiss on the top of his partner's head.

"Damn," Elliot muttered in astonishment. "And right in the middle of their own offices, where anyone could see. Ballsy. Stupid, but ballsy."

"But don't you see?" Olivia murmured. "They _do_ see…"

"And they don't care," Cragen concluded, watching in wonder as a senior Major Case detective walked past the task room, looking in at the two detectives as they held each other, and kept walking without sparing them a second glance.

"Wow," Elliot said dryly. "A squad that doesn't enforce frat regs. Look at what we've been missing, Liv."

Olivia rolled her eyes, and chose to ignore that tactless comment.

"Well, I guess we know what Salinger was talking about now when he asked us to report any inappropriate behaviour."

Cragen favoured her with a slight frown.

"I hope you two aren't going to jump the gun with this. After all, if I reported the number of times I'd seen you two hugging each other…"

"Relax, Captain," Elliot reassured him. "We never planned on telling Salinger anything. We might not intend on being best buddies with Goren and Eames, but we weren't planning to snitch, either."

"Just about ready to get going again?"

Abrupt silence fell as Salinger virtually materialised behind them. Cragen turned and stepped around in a swift and fluid movement, effectively blocking any view Salinger might have had of Goren and Eames in the task room.

"We're ready when everyone else is," he confirmed. Salinger nodded.

"As soon as Tweedledum and Tweedledee decide to show themselves…"

"If you mean us…" a new voice said suddenly from behind Cragen. The captain turned quickly to find Bobby and Alex standing there, both of them looking at Salinger with a level of hostility that almost defied belief.

"If you mean us," Alex went on icily, "then yes. We're ready."

"Good," Salinger growled. "It's about damned time."

The two Major Case detectives turned and headed back to Deakins' office, with Salinger right behind them. Cragen, Olivia and Elliot watched them go.

"You think they'd rule it justifiable homicide if either of them just decided to shoot Salinger?" Elliot wondered. Olivia snorted.

"I know I'd be willing to testify on their behalf. Salinger's a grade A asshole."

"C'mon, kids," Cragen said ruefully, though he suddenly found himself struggling to hide a grin. "Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

They walked back into Deakins' office to find a curious arrangement. Deakins occupied his own chair, while Bobby and Alex had seated themselves in two chairs off to the side. Standing by them, almost like bodyguards, were Logan and Bishop. Standing a conspicuous distance away from them on the other side of the office, was Salinger.

Exchanging wry looks, the two SVU detectives moved around to stand somewhere in between the two sides while Cragen moved to join Deakins.

"All right, Don," Salinger said finally, firing a dark look at Bobby and Alex who, in turn, pointedly ignored him. "Would you go over everything briefly?"

Cragen nodded, glancing uneasily around the room before speaking.

"I got a call yesterday morning from a colleague upstate, at Gore Mountain, a little ways north of Saratoga. Over the last five weeks, the bodies of five women have been found, dumped near various walking tracks that lead up the nearby mountain. The most recent victim was found on a routine patrol of the mountain itself. Each of the five victims were sexually assaulted, and tortured to death. Now, they don't have the man-power to deal with this, so they've asked for help. We've agreed to give it."

"Are they sure it's only one person?" Bishop asked.

"They're not sure of anything right at the moment," Cragen answered. "That's why they need our help. There'll be eight of you going all together. Detectives Tutuola and Munch will be joining you. Detectives Benson and Stabler have been assigned to head the taskforce."

"I trust there are no objections to that?" Salinger asked snidely.

"None here," Bobby answered tonelessly. They're welcome to it."

Salinger nodded.

"Good. Because you _will_ do as they say. Whatever they tell you to do, you _will_ do it. Is that understood? Goren? Eames?"

Alex glared at him in warning.

"Loud and clear, _Sir_."

Salinger nodded again, smirking with obvious satisfaction.

"Very good. I'm glad to see that we have some understanding here. Now, you'll be heading off first thing tomorrow morning. I've organised a van…"

"Wouldn't it be more economical, time-wise, to fly them there?" Deakins asked, frowning.

"I'm trying to be mindful of the budget, Deakins," Salinger snapped. "Unlike yourself, with your business class upgrades on your little jaunt to Britain four months ago."

Deakins drew in a slow breath, visibly straining to maintain his sense of calm.

"I pulled a favour with a friend for those upgrades. It didn't cost the department a cent."

Salinger snorted derisively. "Anyway, I'm sure the detectives can cope with a few hours in a van."

"A few hours?" Cragen echoed incredulously. "It's an eight hour drive from here to that region of the Adirondacks!"

"I'm sure they'll cope," Salinger said indifferently, ignoring the aggravated looks that were shared between Cragen and Deakins. "Besides, Goren and Eames have made a trip like this before, right? I've heard it was a pretty smooth ride, by all accounts."

The sudden silence that descended on the office was so thick it could literally have been cut with a knife. While Cragen, Olivia and Elliot looked on in confusion, both Bobby and Alex turned deathly grey where they sat.

"Damn you, Salinger, that was uncalled for!" Deakins exploded, pushing himself up out of his chair and almost shaking with rage at the malicious comment. Salinger only smirked and stepped smoothly towards the door.

"Just make sure your people are here and ready to go by eight tomorrow morning. They'll be given more comprehensive information then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep."

Then, he was gone.

"The rumours aren't entirely accurate," Cragen muttered as he watched Salinger's retreating figure. "He doesn't have the personality of a sloth. He has the personality of an alligator."

"What did he mean, you two have made a trip like this before?" Elliot asked Bobby and Alex in confusion. He got no answer, though. Goren stood up unsteadily, his face still the colour of ash.

"Captain, Alex and I might go, if that's okay. To… To get ready for tomorrow."

Deakins nodded, acutely aware that he was the only one in the room who understood the underlying meaning of Bobby's words. For them, 'getting ready' probably meant spending most of the evening and ensuing night holding each other as close as humanly possible in what was likely to be a vain attempt to ward off some truly horrific nightmares; especially after the deliberately vicious words of the Chief of Detectives.

"That's fine," he told them quietly. "Go ahead. Logan, Bishop, you're both welcome to do the same."

"We'll just finish up the rest of our paperwork before we go," Bishop said, ignoring the sour look she got from Logan. They followed Bobby and Alex out, leaving Cragen, Benson and Stabler with Deakins.

"Care to explain anything, Jim?" Cragen asked quietly. Deakins regarded him quizzically.

"Such as?"

Cragen scowled, rapidly growing impatient with all the secrets that were seemingly being kept from them.

"Don't play innocent with me, Jim. It's not going to wash. What is going on with your detectives? I think Elliot and Olivia have a right to know, at least, since they're going to be working with them. If there's a problem…"

"The only problem," Deakins cut in heatedly, "is Salinger." He paused, then sighed and motioned to the door. "Close the door, and I'll explain what I can."

Olivia did so wordlessly. Deakins then motioned to the now empty chairs.

"Have a seat. Please."

Once they were seated, Deakins spoke softly.

"The trip Salinger was referring to was when Mathers transported Goren and Eames to his mountain cabin after abducting them from his brother's warehouse ten months ago."

"We did hear about that," Elliot said, frowning, "along with pretty much every other cop in New York."

"So Salinger's an insensitive bastard," Olivia said. "We already knew that, but what is the big issue here?"

Deakins fought back the urge to groan aloud, incredulous that it seemed he had to spell it out for them.

"Detective Benson, I know you have plenty of experience with victims of violent crimes. Tell me something, if you would. Generally speaking, what would you say is the most common reaction that victims have when they're made to return to the place where the crime against them took place?"

Olivia glanced at Elliot before answering, not quite sure where Deakins was going with this.

"Well… It varies from person to person, but it's usually pretty acute. A lot of the time, they can't cope, especially when the crime is particularly horrific."

"We had a victim once who suffered a seizure," Elliot said quietly. "She completely panicked, couldn't deal with it at all."

Deakins nodded, not surprised by their answers.

"Now tell me, where is it, precisely, that you're going?"

"Gore Mountain, in the Adirondack Range," Olivia answered, still puzzled.

"And do you have any idea where it was that Erik Mathers took Bobby and Alex? Where it was that he held them for two days before setting them loose only to hunt them down like animals? Where he came within a hair's breadth of killing them both?"

By then, Cragen, Olivia and Elliot were all staring at Deakins with horrified realisation.

"You can't be serious…" Cragen said softly. "It's the same place?"

Deakins nodded, relieved that they finally understood.

"It's the same place," he confirmed.

"Doesn't Salinger know…?" Elliot started to ask, only to trail off as Deakins looked at him grimly. "He does know… doesn't he?"

"Yes, he knew all along," Deakins confirmed again. "And it's the reason why he was determined to include Bobby and Alex in this investigation. He knows the effect that going back there is likely have on them. He's probably counting on it."

"That lousy son of a bitch," Cragen growled. "We can't make them go back there, not unless they want to. Salinger damn well ought to know that!"

"Of course he knows it," Deakins growled, suddenly feeling extraordinarily tired and not knowing whether it was physical or mental. "He just doesn't give a damn. The point is, he's out to break Bobby and Alex, in any way possible."

"This is why you insisted on Logan and Bishop going as well, isn't it?" Olivia asked. "As support for them."

Deakins nodded in confirmation.

"Right. It wasn't strictly essential to the investigation… Hell, sending Bobby and Alex wasn't strictly essential. I don't doubt you folks can handle this perfectly well on your own. But Salinger never gave me a choice over sending Bobby and Alex, so I never gave him a choice over sending Logan and Bishop."

Olivia and Elliot stood up slowly.

"We understand now, Sir," Olivia said quietly.

"Thankyou," Deakins answered. "Just a word of warning, though, Detectives. Do not show my detectives any sort of special consideration, unless you honestly believe it's warranted. They don't want your pity. They won't appreciate it."

"Don't worry about that," Elliot said dryly. "We don't deal in pity. Captain Cragen, if it's okay by you…?"

Cragen nodded.

"Go ahead. Just be sure to check in with me before you leave tonight."

Then they were gone, leaving the two captains alone.

"I'm sorry, Jim," Cragen said quietly. "If I'd had any idea, I would have tried to do more."

"It's not something you could have done anything about, Don. The problem is that Salinger would like nothing more than to bring Bobby and Alex crashing down. He seems to see them as his own personal vendetta, and he seems to think they're personally responsible for the embarrassment he's suffered with certain areas of the Media."

Cragen gave a short, barking laugh.

"No one's responsible for Salinger's humiliation with the Media, except Salinger."

"Yes, well, everyone knows that except him."

A faint sigh escaped Cragen.

"He always was a little prick. Look, Jim, I know Olivia and Elliot aren't likely to be best friends with Goren and Eames, or anything like that. Lord knows there's too much rivalry between our squads for _that_ to happen. Now they know the facts, though, I think I can at least promise you that they'll keep an eye out for them. You don't have to worry about their safety."

"I appreciate that, Don, but I'm not worried about their physical safety."

Cragen raised an eyebrow sceptically, and Deakins sighed and shook his head.

"Okay, fine. I _am_ worried, but it's not specifically that. I just don't know how they're going to react when they get there. I really don't know. I can't tell you whether they're likely to just shut down completely, or whether they might react in some physical way… I just don't know, Don."

"You're overlooking one possible reaction," Cragen pointed out.

"What's that?"

"That they might be okay. Have a little faith in your detectives, Jim."

"I do," Deakins murmured. "Believe me, I do."

Cragen started to get up to leave, then stopped as something else occurred to him.

"Tell me something, Jim. Logan…"

"What about him?"

"I can't see him as being especially close with Goren."

"He's not."

"So… He defended Goren pretty vigorously before. I just find it hard to see him going out on a limb for the likes of Goren. He must know he's still more or less on probation here."

"Logan came to Major Case willingly at my request when Bobby and Alex disappeared. He helped lead the taskforce that found and rescued them, and he took an arrow in the arm courtesy of the bastard that took them. He saw firsthand the hell that Bobby and Alex went through on that mountain, Don. He knows as well as I do how hard it's going to be for Bobby and Alex to go back there. He's the one who offered to go with them for support, and I'll defend him to the hilt if Salinger or anyone else tries to make things difficult for him."

Cragen smiled.

"Olivia said it was squad loyalty. I guess she wasn't far wrong after all."

Deakins sat back slowly, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain through his lower body.

"I guess you could say that."

Cragen got up again.

"I have to go. They'll be okay, Jim. I'm sure of it."

Deakins watched Cragen go, bleakly wishing he could be as certain of his detectives' wellbeing.

* * *

_tbc..._


	4. The Long Road Back

A/N: This is an interesting experience, effectively writing a story from scratch. I have only a slender idea of where this is going, and already I've caught myself by surprise with some of what's happened so far. But, as a very smart, spunky female detective said in a season one episode, 'This is gonna go where it's gonna go.' But it ought to be an interesting ride in the meantime…

I've also been considering the whole Bobby Goren/Elliot Stabler animosity thing. With the exception of one fic, every story I've read that places those two together in the same room inevitably writes them as thoroughly hating each other - Intellectual vs. physical, etc. I'd fully anticipated that happening in this story, as well, but as I said, I've caught myself by surprise with the way some aspects of this story are turning out. It's gonna go where it's gonna go...

* * *

"So how'd it go?" Fin Tutuola asked as Olivia and Elliot joined him and John Munch in a little café not far from SVU Headquarters. Olivia shook her head.

"You needed to be there to believe it."

"We thought Captain Deakins and Chief Salinger were going to kill each other, literally," Elliot said with a chuckle. Munch rolled his eyes.

"And we thought the politicians all loved him."

"Deakins must be the exception to the rule," Fin retorted. "Salinger's an asshole, anyway. Now, everyone knows that Deakins is a politician, but if he can't stand the guy, he must be okay."

"He sure defended his detectives to the hilt," Elliot said as he signalled the waitress for coffee. "And believe us, they needed it, after the crap Goren pulled."

"What happened?" Munch asked.

"Goren slammed Salinger into a filing cabinet," Elliot explained, "and then he damned near choked him."

"Any particular reason for it?" Fin asked with an inscrutable look on his face. Elliot and Olivia exchanged glances. Although they understood the reasons now for Bobby's actions against Salinger, neither of them felt comfortable sharing something like that without consent from either of the Major Case detectives.

"Salinger was just being an asshole about everything," Elliot said finally, by way of explanation. "He was trying rub their faces in it about us being in charge, and not Major Case. Anyway, you know what the word is at the moment. Goren's still in a leg brace… I mean, that leg has gotta really still be hurting him. The guy's got a short fuse at the moment and I guess it just didn't take much to set him off. But I've gotta say, if I'd had my way, I would've let Goren just choke the bastard to death."

"And Salinger didn't do anything to him over it?" Munch wondered.

"He tried," Olivia answered. "He was going to have Goren suspended, _and_ charged with assault, but Mike Logan stonewalled him."

"Logan?" Fin asked incredulously. "How'd he pull that off?"

"He very politely mentioned that one of his best friends is Danny Walker, from the Post. Salinger nearly choked."

Fin smiled a little to himself, but said nothing.

"So, how do you think working with the great Goren and his little sidekick is going to work out?" Munch asked, ignoring the frown he got from his partner. Elliot shrugged.

"Might be okay. It's not just Goren and Eames that are coming, though. Deakins is sending Mike Logan and _his_ partner, too."

"Bishop, you mean?" Fin asked, and Olivia nodded.

"Yeah."

"How come? Is Deakins trying to balance out the equation, or something?"

"Or something," Elliot muttered. "Let's just say, it's not for the benefit of the investigation."

Fin and Munch exchanged looks, and then Finspoke in a subdued voice.

"It's because Gore Mountain is where that whack job Erik Mathers tried to kill Goren and Eames, isn't it?"

Both Olivia and Elliot gaped at him in astonishment.

"You already knew?" Olivia burst out. "How come you never said anything to us earlier?"

Munch shrugged. "We thought you already knew. It's not like it's secret knowledge."

Elliot shook his head in annoyance.

"Crap. Thanks, guys. Next time, clue us in, would you? Liv and I felt like idiots, not knowing what the hell was going on."

"Speak for yourself, Elliot," Olivia grumbled at her partner.

"So what's the plan now?" Fin asked, exchanging amused smiles with Munch.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning," Elliot explained. "We have to be at One Police Plaza at eight tomorrow morning."

"Why One Police Plaza? Munch grumbled.

"It's a more central location," Olivia said simply. Munch grunted.

"Bullshit. You mean, it's out of consideration to the Dynamic Duo."

"Not from Salinger's point of view," Elliot retorted, "and he's the one who organised it."

"How about actually trying to show a little consideration, John?" Fin growled. "You heard Elliot. Goren's still in a leg brace."

Munch was unapologetic. "So sue me for not falling over myself with sympathy for the guy. You guys wanna treat him with kid gloves? Be my guest. But if Goren can't keep up with us, I for one am not waiting around for him."

Elliot and Olivia exchanged looks once more. The truth was, prior to that afternoon's meeting, they had each harboured the same thought. Now, neither was sure what lay ahead.

"Let's just go one step at a time, okay?" Olivia suggested quietly. "We ought to at least be willing to give him a chance."

Fin nodded in agreement.

"Okay, so we're meeting at One Police Plaza tomorrow morning at eight. Then what? We go to the airport together from there?"

"Not exactly," Elliot said ruefully. "Salinger's kindly organised a van."

The statement was met with ­incredulous stares from Fin and Munch.

"A van," Munch said flatly after a long silence. "We're going by van. Did anyone think to mention to Salinger just how _far_ it is to Gore Mountain?"

"C'mon, John, it'll be fun, man," Fin said sarcastically. "It'll be just like going on a road trip. You bring the junk food, I'll bring the beer."

"Road trip my ass," Munch grumbled. "I'm telling you now, if anything is going to put Goren into a foul mood, it'll be eight hours cramped in a van with seven other people."

"You think we haven't thought of that?" Elliot retorted. "And we aren't the only ones. Deakins tried to push for us to fly there, but Salinger didn't want to hear it." He paused, shaking his head. "Come to think of it, it's surprising that one of them didn't try throttling Salinger then, either. The stupid moron said he couldn't see what the problem was, because Goren and Eames had made the trip before, and _he'd_ heard it was a pretty smooth ride."

Fin was horrified.

"You can't be serious. He really said that? In front of Goren and Eames?"

"He really said it," Olivia confirmed, and Fin grunted.

"Sounds like the man has a death wish."

"All it is," Munch said, "is that he's trying to get in as much payback as possible before Adkins comes back from his trip overseas. He'll be getting his ass kicked all over the place by Adkins in a month's time, and he knows it. That's partly why he's being such a prick now. Unfortunately, Goren and Eames are the ones who have to suffer for it. Then again, better them than us."

"You might say that now," Elliot pointed out. "But don't forget that we're gonna be stuck with them for however long, aren't we?"

Fin got up, and Munch followed suit.

"I can think of a lot worse things to have happen, Elliot. How about we just give them a chance? You might think that Goren can be annoying, but he's good at the job, and so is Eames. With them around, we might be home again just that much sooner."

Elliot smiled wryly.

"Nice speech, Fin. I could almost believe that you meant it."

Fin smiled coolly.

"See you tomorrow. We're gonna head back, report to Cragen, and then head home to get ready."

Munch nodded in wordless agreement, and the two detectives trudged out of the café in silence.

"You think it'll really be that bad?" Olivia asked. Elliot shrugged.

"Honestly? I don't know, Liv. I guess we're just going to have to wait and see."

* * *

_The following morning_

Bobby opened his door the next morning just on half past seven to find Deakins waiting on the other side.

"I'm getting dejavu," he muttered, turning and limping away back to the sofa. Deakins glanced down at the bags that sat just inside the door.

"You're not the only one," he commented as he followed Bobby in. He paused, his gaze going to Alex, who sat in Bobby's large recliner, nursing a large cup of steaming coffee. She looked tired, he mused as he took in her pale features and the dark circles beneath her eyes. In fact, so did he.

"Time to get moving," he said unnecessarily, opting not to go for the standard 'are you ready' comment. He knew damn well what the answer would have been had he dared to ask that. When neither of them moved, he walked around to put himself in a position where he could see both their faces.

"I gather it was a pretty rough night?"

"You could say that," Alex mumbled, not lifting her gaze from the steaming liquid in her mug. Bobby looked up at him after sparing Alex a concerned glance.

"Are we going to have to put up with Salinger this morning?"

"Possibly. Why?"

"Then you might want to hang on to my gun. Because otherwise, I might just shoot him."

Deakins sighed faintly.

"Very bad night, I see. Okay. How about we get down to the car, and you can tell me on the way to One Police Plaza."

"What's to tell?" Alex asked hoarsely. "Neither of us slept more than two hours straight last night, and at one point I woke up screaming, then spent the next half hour after that in the bathroom throwing up."

"I wish I could say forget about this," Deakins said unhappily. "I really do. If Adkins was here, this would never have gotten this far, but there's not a damned thing I can do about it."

"All the times we'd dealt with victims before," Bobby said softly, his gaze fixed very firmly on the floor, "and we never really had a clue. All those times that we forced a victim to relive what they'd been through, and we never understood how hard it really was. Now it's our turn…" He looked up at Deakins, then, with a pained stared. "Kind of poetic justice, isn't it?"

"Okay," Deakins said quietly, sitting down opposite them on the other recliner. "Listen to me, both of you. I don't want either of you going thinking you don't have any support at all."

"We know," Alex said acidly. "We have Logan and Bishop…"

"Alex, shut up and listen to me," Deakins snapped. She stared at him, mildly startled. Deakins was often inclined to tell Bobby to shut up, particularly when he got into his encyclopaedia mode, but she could not recall him ever telling _her_ to shut up.

Assured that he had the attention of both of them, Deakins went on quietly.

"You both have my cell phone number on speed dial. I want you to call me every evening for an update on what's happening. If you just need to talk, though, about _anything_, no matter how trivial you might think it is, then I want you to call me straight away. Any time, day or night. The same with your counsellors. You can probably imagine they're not happy about this…"

"Are you serious?" Alex retorted. "We called and spoke to them yesterday evening when we got back here. They damn near hit the roof."

Deakins smiled ruefully. "That would explain the phone call I had last night."

Bobby, at least, had the good grace to look embarrassed, Deakins thought amusedly.

"Well," Bobby mumbled, "we're sorry about that. We didn't mean for them to call and harass you. We would have preferred they do it to Salinger…"

"That would have been difficult when he's so damned selective about who he gives his phone numbers to," Deakins mused. "I'm not kidding, though. Call me anytime, day or night."

"Is that an order?" Bobby asked, just a hint of a smile on his face. Deakins smiled in return.

"If you want it to be. And regarding Logan and Bishop, don't be afraid to talk to them either. They'll listen to you, and they'll probably be a hell of a lot more understanding than any of those four detectives from SVU."

"That's right," Alex murmured. "Those other two from SVU are coming as well, aren't they? Tutuola and Munch… I heard Munch is a bit of a whack job, the Fox Mulder of the NYPD."

It was only with some effort that Deakins didn't laugh outright. As it was, he couldn't keep a grin off his face.

"He's prone to conspiracy theories," he confirmed, "if that's what you mean. But if Don Cragen has been totally honest with us, then he's also a damned good detective. As for Tutuola, I don't know much about him…"

"Fin's a good cop," Bobby said suddenly, drawing a surprised look from Deakins.

"You know him?" Deakins asked. Bobby shrugged a little.

"I know _of_ him. We were both in Narcotics. He's got a good reputation."

Bobby hesitated, and then stood up abruptly. Alex reluctantly followed suit.

"Okay. Let's go." He paused, a frown crossing his face fleetingly as Deakins manoeuvred himself awkwardly to his feet, leaning heavily on his own walking stick for that extra bit of much-needed support. "You… didn't drive here yourself… did you?"

Deakins raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Are you kidding me? My doctor would have me hung, drawn and quartered. No, Logan's waiting with the van downstairs."

"Logan," Bobby muttered. Deakins bit back an urge to grin.

"Cut him some slack, Bobby. If it weren't for him, you'd probably be facing an indefinite suspension and an assault charge for bailing up Salinger yesterday."

Bobby shook his head, but said nothing. Between the three of them, they got the small amount of luggage down to the underground garage, where Logan was waiting for them in the Major Case Squad's small van.

"I won't bother asking if you guys are ready to go," Logan said as he helped them load their bags into the back.

"Thankyou," Alex grumbled. Logan looked across at Deakins as Alex and Bobby climbed into the van, but the captain only shook his head.

"Okay," Logan murmured. "Let's go. Wouldn't want to keep the dear Chief waiting."

* * *

"They're late," Munch said coolly as they waited by the van Salinger had hired, in One Police Plaza's underground car park.

"Five minutes, Munch," Olivia said. "They're five minutes late. It's no big deal."

"They'll be here," Bishop said calmly, her attention focused on her copy of the files that Salinger had given to Don Cragen to pass on to them. "You know what downtown traffic is like, this time of the morning."

Munch grunted. "For all we know, Goren and Eames probably barricaded themselves into their apartments, and won't come out. Can't say I really blame them but I, for one, would really like to get going. Eight hours in a minivan is not my idea of a swell time, and the later they are, the longer this is going to take."

"We're gonna be in the van the same amount of time, no matter how early or late we leave, Munch," Elliot pointed out in amusement. "Just chill, okay?"

"Here they come," Olivia said as a smaller van drove into the car park, and pulled up near the bigger, rented twelve-seater van.

"Okay, we're all here now," Cragen said as Bobby, Alex, Logan and Deakins got out, and their luggage was loaded into the other vehicle.

"Where's Salinger?" Logan wondered, not sounding terribly disappointed at his absence.

"Something about an appointment he couldn't break," Cragen said. "Hoping to see him, were you Logan?"

Logan smirked. "Yeah, sure. I was really looking forward to it, Captain."

"Here," Cragen said with a smile as he handed files each to Bobby, Alex and Logan. "Some reading material for the trip." He looked around at all eight detectives. "The local brass will be waiting for you when you get there this afternoon. You'll have all their resources at your disposal, so don't hesitate to use whatever you need. And remember, they asked for _our_ help, so don't take any crap. Ready, people?"

Neither Bobby nor Alex answered that. Instead, they climbed straight into the van, taking the seats at the back, with Bobby sitting in the middle so he could stretch his long legs out. Exchanging bemused looks, the other six detectives followed suit, climbing into the van as well.

"So tell me something, Jim," Cragen mused as they watched the van pull out of the car park on the start of its long journey north. Deakins looked questioningly at his counterpart.

"What?"

"You think they'll make it to Gore Mountain without trying to kill each other?"

Deakins had a smile on his face even before he realised it.

"I hope so, Don," he said as they turned and headed back towards the lifts. "But if it comes down to one on one, I'll put my money on my people. Even with the leg brace, Bobby is still formidable, to say the least."

Cragen gave a short laugh.

"You're sorely underestimating Elliot and Fin, my friend. I wouldn't like to be around when either of them are backed into a corner."

Deakins laughed softly, but his humour was already seeping away as his concern for Bobby and Alex began to rise again.

"They'll be fine, Jim," Cragen reassured him. "But if it makes you feel any better, you might like to know that two of our detectives have some history together."

Deakins looked questioningly at Cragen, wondering if the captain was referring to Logan.

"Who do you mean?"

"Fin and Goren. They worked together in Narcotics for nearly three and a half years."

Deakins couldn't conceal his surprise.

"Bobby said he knew about Fin. He didn't say they'd actually worked together."

"Well, they did. Fin told me last night, on the quiet. By the sounds of it, they're pretty good friends. And Fin said that Goren has told him a fair bit about what happened on that mountain."

Deakins mulled over that as they rode the lift back up to the eleventh floor. There was some relief to be had in that knowledge, but at the same time he wondered whether Bobby had mentioned it at all to Alex. Though he supposed it wasn't essential information for him to pass on, Deakins could imagine Alex would feel more than a little upset if she wasn't told.

"…So we don't have to worry. They'll be fine."

Deakins came back to reality, becoming abruptly aware that Cragen had been speaking to him. Cragen was watching him with a bemused smile, seemingly aware that his counterpart had been somewhere else entirely.

"I said, Jim, that Fin promised to keep an eye out for both Goren and Eames. We don't have to worry."

Some small measure of relief filled Deakins.

"Thankyou."

* * *

"So where's the beer, Fin?" Olivia asked, grinning broadly. "Didn't you say you were going to bring it?"

Fin threw a smirk in Olivia's direction as he got settled into the second last seat, just in front of where Bobby and Alex were sitting.

"Sorry, Liv. Cragen confiscated it."

"Crap," Logan bantered. "That sucks. Well, we'll just have to make a pit stop, won't we?"

"Anyone brings anything into this van that has a higher alcoholic content than root beer," Alex threatened, "and I'll shoot them myself."

"Hey, just 'cause you guys are tee-totalling, why should we be deprived?" Logan asked with a laugh. Alex glared at him.

"I have a gun, and I'm not afraid to use it, Logan. Don't tempt me."

"Okay, guys," Elliot said, chuckling. He paused, aware of three lethal glares being thrown in his direction. "And ladies," he added quickly. "Get settled. We've got a long way to go, and I'll warn you now, I'll personally throttle the first person who says they need a restroom stop before we're a hundred miles out of the city."

Fin hooted with laughter.

"Check out the man, taking control. No guesses who's got the experience with going on long trips with kids."

Elliot rolled his eyes.

"Don't make me bring out the big guns, Fin."

"If you're thinking about making us sing travel songs, don't," Bishop growled warningly where she sat next to Olivia. Elliot grinned and finally dropped into a seat beside Logan as the van turned out of One Police Plaza's car park, and into the morning traffic.

Fin shifted in his seat, turning to look at the two detectives that occupied the rear seat.

"How're you two doing?"

"Just peachy," Alex muttered. Bobby gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

"We're okay, thanks, Fin."

Fin eyed them both critically.

"You didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night, did you?"

Bobby smiled, but it a pale imitation of the real thing.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Man, you look like you haven't slept for a week."

"You're not far off the mark," Alex conceded, simply too exhausted to keep up the attitude. Fin regarded her with sympathy.

"Don't bite my head off, but maybe you ought to consider taking something to help you sleep."

"You mean something like dream suppressants?" Bobby asked. "You know we can't take anything like that, Fin. That's all still highly experimental stuff."

"I know," Fin murmured. "How are you going to manage, though?"

They exchanged tired looks, and then Bobby spoke softly, in a voice that left Fin feeling none too convinced.

"We'll manage."

* * *

_Noon_

"I thought we were never going to stop," Munch grumbled as the van pulled up at a roadhouse just off the freeway.

"What's the matter, John?" Fin asked. "Getting a numb ass?"

Munch took the liberty of ignoring his partner, instead clambering out of the van and stalked off to the roadhouse for a restroom break, and much-needed food. Grinning wickedly, Fin hurried after him. Bishop went as well, her nose still buried in the thick file she'd been provided with at the start of their trip.

"What do you want to do about them?" Logan asked. Elliot and Olivia looked around questioningly, and saw what Logan was talking about a moment later.

Bobby was slumped against the side of the van, his head kept from banging against the window by means of a small cushion. Alex was slumped against _him_, with his right arm draped protectively around her shoulders. Both detectives were fast asleep, and apparently had been for some time.

"Maybe we should just leave them," Olivia murmured. "They look so peaceful. We could always just grab them something to go if they haven't woken up before we're ready to move on."

"We've been on the road since just after eight, and it's twelve o'clock now," Elliot said. "They might look peaceful now, but that won't last long if we take off again without giving them the chance to take a rest stop."

"Okay," Logan conceded. "You two go ahead. I'll wake them."

"You sure?" Olivia asked. Logan nodded.

"Positive."

"Okay, we'll see you inside," Elliot said, and he and Olivia climbed out of the van and disappeared into the roadhouse. Logan watched them go, then sat down carefully just within arm's length of Alex. Benson and Stabler might have been great detectives, but their powers of observation left something to be desired if they thought Bobby and Alex looked peaceful.

Surely he hadn't been the only one to notice the way Bobby's right hand held Alex's shoulder, pulling her closer in an unconscious, involuntary motion; or how his forehead creased just a little and how his breath escaped him in a rush after some several seconds of holding it in. Or, the way in which Alex shuddered ever so slightly against Bobby's large frame and her hand clutched at his jacket, or the faint whimper that escaped her lips. Or most telling of all, the tears that glistened on Alex's cheeks.

After taking a moment to consider a plan of action, Logan reach out and touched just the tips of his fingers to Alex's free hand.

The result was instantaneous. Alex awoke with a violent start, sitting up fast. The sudden movement brought Bobby back into very abrupt awareness, as well.

"It's okay," Logan said quickly, anxious to reassure them both. "We're still in the van. We've just stopped for lunch… Thought you guys might appreciate a bathroom break. We've been on the road for nearly four hours now."

"Thanks," Alex muttered, rubbing one hand quickly across her cheeks and her eyes.

"Are you both all right?" Logan asked cautiously. "I mean…"

"We're fine," Bobby cut him off quietly. "Just… give us a minute, okay? We'll be there in a minute."

Logan nodded.

"Sure. You want me to order you some coffee?"

"Please," Alex said gratefully. "The stronger, the better."

With a last, concerned look at the two of them, Logan climbed out of the van and walked into the roadhouse.

Once Logan had gone, Alex shifted away from Bobby, and rubbed at her eyes.

"I suppose we can be grateful that neither of us woke up screaming," she mumbled. When Bobby didn't answer, she looked back at him questioningly. He was staring away from her, out the window. After a moment's hesitation, she reached across and laid her hand gently over his.

"What is it, Bobby?"

He looked back at her, finally, a familiar pain in his eyes.

"What were you dreaming about?"

She felt a touch of frustration, but swallowed it just as quickly. She knew this game well enough, though 'game' was a dubious choice of phrase. Whenever Bobby suffered a particularly bad nightmare, he tried to offset it by drawing out a description of her own dreams. She guessed there was some underlying hope that hers would be worse than his, allowing him to tell himself that his were not so bad, and could be more or less ignored. It was one coping mechanism that he relied fairly heavily on, and though it often didn't work out the way she suspected that he intended it to, she was more than willing to acquiesce.

"I was back in that damned warehouse. You were on the floor, unconscious… There was blood everywhere, I really thought he'd cracked your skull open. I was kneeling beside you, and I looked up… Mathers was coming at me with that crowbar… I just knelt there and watched him come… I couldn't move, couldn't do a damned thing! Just knelt there like some helpless moron, and waited for him to take me out… I was thinking over and over, it's going to happen again… And I can't do a thing to stop it…"

She gave a choked sob, and Bobby gently drew her to him in a warm hug.

"What about you?" she asked, her voice trembling just slightly. He answered her question with silence, and she looked up at him, waiting patiently for an answer.

"I remember."

She watched him, puzzled and concerned.

"What do you remember?"

He shut his eyes, but it did nothing to rid him of whatever images haunted his mind.

"Bobby?" she pressed gently. "What do you remember?"

"Being… Being in his van."

Alex's breath caught in her throat. "You mean… You woke up when he was taking us from New York to… to the mountain?"

"I guess so," he mumbled. "It… It's not really clear… but yeah. I remember waking up in a small space… We… we weren't blindfolded, then, or tied up. I was on my back… You were right next to me. I could see the windows of the van when I looked up… The windows were blacked out… or heavily tinted, I don't really remember… but it wasn't totally dark. I think he must have used chloroform, or something like it. I know I remember feeling sick, and I didn't have the strength to move. I could hear sounds… people outside talking, and laughing… but nothing clearly enough to understand. But I could smell gas… petrol… like at a gas station. I… I tried to kick the side of the van, but I couldn't move. If I'd been able to kick… just once… If I'd just been able to make someone hear me… but I couldn't move at all… and I couldn't keep awake for long. I don't know whether Mathers came in and found me awake, or if I just passed out again… but the next thing I remember after that was waking up beside you in that room in his cabin."

She slipped her arms around him and hugged him tightly as he shuddered violently, putting up only a token resistance to the tears that were trying so hard to force their way out of his eyes..

"Bobby… How long have you remembered all that?"

"I only remembered it now," he whispered. "That… That's what the nightmare I had was about. And when I woke up… for just a split second…"

She nodded in understanding.

"For just a second, you thought you were still in his van."

"Yeah."

She hugged him fiercely.

"I hope you don't blame yourself for not being able to do anything."

"No," he murmured, but his tone suggested otherwise to Alex. She grasped his hand in her own, and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Bobby, if there was anything you could have done, I know you would have done it. If you say you couldn't move, then I don't doubt that. Don't blame yourself. Not now. It's not worth the grief. Please?"

He shuddered a little, and finally returned her hug.

"I won't. Thanks, Alex."

She smiled, relieved.

"S'okay. Anyway, I have a feeling we're going to have enough to deal with, without sending ourselves on a guilt trip this early into it."

"This trip is going to bring back a whole lot of memories that neither of us want," Bobby said softly as he looked out the window again, at the roadhouse. "Maybe some things we hadn't remembered before now." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I'm starting to wish Salinger _had_ suspended me."

"Don't say that," Alex murmured. "How do you think I'd cope if you weren't here?"

"Deakins told us to survive together," Bobby murmured. "I think that's our only chance. It's the only way we _can_ survive."

"So," Alex mused, "what do you think the odds are of us getting a room together when we get where we're going?"

Bobby looked down at her in amusement, mildly relieved that none of the other six detectives were around to hear that.

"I'd say slim to none," he answered with a wry smile. "But if you share a room with Bishop… and I share one with Logan, or Fin, at least they'll know what to expect."

"As long as she's careful in waking me up," Alex muttered, suddenly feeling downright belligerent at the thought of having to share a room with the woman who had once taken her place as Bobby's partner – even if only temporarily.

"She was a fill-in, Alex," Bobby said with a small smile as he pulled himself up out of the seat and climbed awkwardly out of the van. "That's all. As much as I appreciate what she did for us, if I ever had to partner her again, I'd probably shoot myself." He looked back at her, pausing halfway across the car park to the roadhouse. "You're my partner. I don't want anyone else."

Alex couldn't suppress the grin that found its way onto her face, and her grin in turn drew a broad smile out of her partner.

"C'mon, you big goof," Alex said, slipping her arm through his and deciding she didn't give a damn who saw. "I want coffee."

* * *

"They're coming," Bishop murmured as she spotted Bobby and Alex crossing the car park.

"Do we need to be prepared for bad moods and general crabbiness?" Munch asked, sounding like he didn't particularly care.

"I don't think so," Bishop answered. "They're both smiling."

Fin grunted. "Good sign."

Silence fell across the table as Bobby and Alex approached. The two senior detectives exchanged bemused looks as they sat down.

"Finished talking about us?" Alex asked calmly as she spooned sugar into the coffee that Logan pushed across to her. The embarrassed looks shared between the others was more than satisfying to both Bobby and Alex.

"So how long have we got for lunch?" Logan asked, eager to move the somewhat sparse conversation in a new direction. Elliot looked at Olivia, who shrugged a little.

"I think we can take an hour. Even if we got food to go, we wouldn't get there before four o'clock this afternoon at the earliest, and by the time we get ourselves sorted out, it'll be too late to start anything today. We might as well enjoy ourselves while we can."

A murmur of grateful agreement swept through the group, and they began to study the menus in earnest.

"Hey, does anyone know what the sleeping arrangements are?" Logan asked after their orders had been placed at the counter.

"Three rooms at the local motel," Elliot answered, making a concerted effort to ignore the incredulous stares from his colleagues. "One room for the ladies, two for the gents. Work it out any way you please, guys."

The silence that met Elliot's announcement was a long one. Finally, Munch spoke tersely.

"Let me guess. It's another case of Salinger trying to save a few bucks?"

"Too bad Deakins didn't organise everything," Bishop said ruefully. "We might have at least gotten individual rooms."

"Not to mention flown there," Olivia added.

"Did you guys really fly business class when you went over to England four months ago?" Elliot asked Bobby and Alex.

"Deakins arranged it," Bobby said, feeling automatically defensive. "It wasn't paid for by the Department."

"It's okay, I'm not criticising," Elliot said with a laugh. "Good luck, I say. Five star hotel, too, I'll wager."

"It was only a four star hotel, for your information," Alex grumped, and the rest of the table erupted with laughter. She glared daggers at all of them, ignoring Bobby's hand that gently grasped hers underneath the table.

"Go ahead, laugh it up. But for the record, we were only there for two nights. I stayed with the local DI for the rest of the time after those first two nights, and Bobby and Captain Deakins spent the rest of the time in hospital, after Erik Mathers' father nearly killed them."

The laughter died very abruptly, leaving six detectives more than a little red-faced.

"Sorry, Alex," Fin apologised quietly. "We didn't mean anything by it."

"Are you serious?" Olivia asked incredulously. "The killer you went after in England was the father of the guy who…"

"Who nearly butchered the both of you on the mountain we're heading for right now?" Munch finished off calmly when Olivia faltered. A second later, the lanky detective yelled in pain when Fin hit him hard on the upper arm.

"Why don't you go take a powder, John?" Fin growled. "You're starting to sound like that asshole Salinger."

"It's okay, Fin," Bobby said softly, only to be startled when Alex launched herself out of her chair, jerking her hand away from his at the same time.

"Speak for yourself, _Goren_," she spat, and stalked off towards the bathrooms.

"Way to go, Munch," Elliot said coolly. "It hasn't even been a full day, and you've managed to completely piss one of us off."

Munch scowled, rubbing gingerly at his arm, but wisely opting to stay quiet. Bobby started up to go after his partner, only to be beaten to the punch by Olivia.

"Stay here," she told him. "I'll go talk to her."

Bobby slumped back in his seat, watching with ill-concealed concern as Olivia disappeared into the bathroom after Alex.

"Are you really okay?" Logan asked quietly.

Bobby stared at the tabletop wordlessly for a long moment. His face had gone a pale shade of green as fresh memories sped through his mind. Memories of his partner and best friend lying on the ground with an arrow through her thigh… Pulling her bruised and battered body out of the freezing cold water of a fast-flowing river… Pulling the arrow out of her thigh, and cauterising the wound… Watching her slump over, seemingly lifeless, impaled by an arrow through her stomach…

All of a sudden, he'd lost any appetite he had. He got up awkwardly, leaning nearly his full weight on the walking stick.

"I'm not very hungry. I think I'll wait in the van."

"Great," Fin growled once Bobby was out of earshot. "Why didn't you just shoot him, John? It might have been less painful for him."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Munch protested. "I didn't think about what I was saying."

"Yeah, well, you'd better start thinking," Fin snapped. "It's bad enough that they have to go back to that place to start with, without any of us being assholes about it."

Silence fell as a tentative-looking waitress brought the first couple of plates out, one of which was the schnitzel sandwich that Bobby had ordered.

"Can we get that to go, please?" Logan asked, indicating the sandwich. He offered no further explanation and the waitress didn't ask for one, though she spared them all a wary look as she took the plate back to the kitchen to wrap the sandwich up.

Minutes later, the rest of the food had been delivered to the table, though suddenly none of them felt particularly hungry. They were still picking at their lunches when Olivia and Alex finally emerged from the bathroom.

"Where's Bobby?" Alex asked, looking at the five detectives at the table in confusion. There was a moment of silence, and then Elliot reluctantly pointed out the window to the van.

"He turned kinda green, then said he wasn't hungry and that he was going to wait in the van," Fin explained, wincing a little at the harsh look from Alex. She never said a word, wheeling around and stalking out of the roadhouse to go and check on her partner. Olivia watched her go, then looked back at her fellow detectives with a scathing look.

"And not a single one of you had the decency to go after him, and make sure he's okay. That's wonderful. We're off to a really great start, aren't we?"

"Take it easy, Olivia," Munch pleaded. "What were we supposed to do? Offer a group hug?"

"Just try a little bit of understanding in future, please?" she asked, sitting down but all the while keeping one eye on the van parked outside, the two people that now occupied it.

* * *

"Bobby?"

Alex paused for just a moment in the open doorway of the van, acutely aware of the muffled sounds of sobbing from within. After just a moment's consideration, she climbed in.

She found him in his seat at the rear of the van, slumped over, with one hand pressed over his face. His shoulders shook hard from sobs that were impossible for him to suppress. She couldn't blame him, she thought glumly as she sat down carefully beside him, and gently wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. She'd been sobbing like a baby when Olivia walked in on her in the bathroom. And all this because John Munch didn't have the decency to keep his insensitive trap shut.

Slowly, he became aware of her presence, and his sobs eased a little and he finally drew back from her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. She grasped his hands in her own, and leaned forward to kiss him gently on his left cheek.

"Don't apologise, Bobby. It wasn't your fault. I guess it wasn't really Munch's fault, either. We just needed an excuse to blow off steam. When was the last time we had a chance to do that?"

He smiled just a little.

"You mean have a full blown argument? About three weeks ago."

Alex grinned at him.

"See? We're about a week overdue. C'mere…"

She pulled him to her in a fierce, protective embrace, which he returned with gradually returning enthusiasm.

"I guess we're going to have to start trying to be a bit more thick-skinned, aren't we?" she murmured as she rested her head against his broad chest. "The others are going to get really tired of our 'poor little us' routine really quickly, otherwise."

"It'll help if we don't have to put up with asinine comments like that one from Munch," Bobby muttered. "But yeah… I think you're right. We're going to have to try and keep it to ourselves. It's not going to be easy, but I think we have to, for everyone's sakes."

"If we're really lucky," Alex said, "we'll wrap this one up in a couple of days, like we did with the Denton case."

"Hopefully less dramatically," Bobby said with a short, strained laugh.

"Well, at least we can be sure Deakins won't be kidnapped this time."

That elicited another chuckle, this time more genuine.

"No. Now we just have six other detectives to worry about."

Alex snorted derisively.

"Screw them. Let them worry about themselves. We know why we're here, Bobby, and it isn't to solve this case. Salinger wants to break us. Well, screw him, too. I don't want to go home from this needing therapy every other day. Let's just do this… Do whatever we need to… and then get on with our lives. I want my life, back, Bobby. I'm sick of waking up every fucking night, soaked in sweat, crying… or screaming… from nightmares that just about drive me out of my mind with fear. If doing this now… going back to that place… is what it takes to get past that, then… then…"

"Bring it on?" he suggested softly when she hesitated, and a bitter smile crossed her lips.

"Yeah. Bring it on."

"I'm tired of it, too. How many times have we been told the nightmares would eventually stop?"

"I lost count. I just want to be over this."

"We might never be… _over_ it," Bobby mused, "but know what you mean. I want to be able to move on, too. At the moment, the smallest things trigger memories. Sometimes it's hard not to just freeze up completely. I want that to end, more than anything."

"It's funny, you know," Alex murmured. "The nightmares… the memories… Everything that keeps tripping us up… None of it came into play in Denton when things went haywire. We had a moment of panic, when Deakins went missing, but then we got onto it, and just did what we had to do. How did we do that without going to pieces?"

"Adrenalin," Bobby said simply.

"I don't believe that," Alex argued. "At least, I don't believe it was _only_ that. I think, when it came to the crunch, we were somehow able to push it all to the side and focus totally on the situation… Not let all our traumas get in the way. I wish I knew how to do that for just the everyday things."

"We'll figure it out," Bobby murmured, shutting his eyes as he rested his cheek gently against the top of her head, at the same time settling down into the seat. "We will… sooner or later."

Alex sighed, feeling her thoughts start to grow sluggish as sleep began to overtake her.

"Sooner… I hope…"

Bobby didn't answer, his slow, deep breathing telling her he was already asleep. Smiling inwardly, deciding she didn't give a shit what the others thought, Alex allowed sleep to take hold and joined her partner in slumber.

* * *

"Check it out," Fin said with quiet laughter as the detectives climbed back into the van nearly an hour later. Logan climbed in after him, took one look at the scene before them, and grinned widely.

"Anyone bring a camera?"

A ripple of laughter went through the group as they got a good look at the couple asleep at the back of the van. Alex and Bobby hadn't moved from the positions they'd fallen asleep in nearly an hour previous, with Alex curled up against her partner's large frame, and Bobby's arms wrapped completely around her with his head resting gently on hers.

"They do look kind of cute," Bishop said in amusement as Munch scrambled to get out his phone, to take a picture before Bobby or Alex awoke.

"Leave 'em be," Elliot growled, only half joking. "Munch, don't even think about it."

"Just one photo," Munch insisted.

"You use that thing, and I'll shove it where the sun don't shine," Alex mumbled, woken by the clamour. She carefully extricated herself from Bobby, who stirred briefly, but then settled down once more without awakening. Alex shot Munch a final, warning glare, then looked wearily over at Elliot.

"We ready to get moving again?"

Elliot nodded, smiling a little in appreciation of Alex's spitfire attitude that put Munch very firmly in his place.

"Yeah. You want to pay a visit before we go?"

"I'm fine," she murmured. "But I don't suppose any of you thought to…"

She trailed off, then smiled gratefully as Olivia handed a paper carry bag to her.

"That's yours and Bobby's sandwiches. We filled the thermoses with coffee, too."

"Thanks," Alex murmured, picking out her sandwich and putting Bobby's aside for whenever he decided that he wanted it.

"So is everything okay?" Elliot asked, genuine concern in his voice as they all settled back into their seats and the van pulled out onto the road once more. Alex stared at him for a moment, a curious expression on her face. Out of all of their colleagues, Elliot Stabler was not one that she had expected to receive sympathy or compassion from, despite his reputation for treating victims with exceptional kindness.

"Yeah," she said finally, shaking herself out of her momentary stupor. "Yeah, I think we'll be okay." She paused, then added, "I won't apologise for before, but…"

"You don't have to apologise for anything," Olivia interrupted firmly, throwing a dark look in Munch's direction.

"All the same," Alex said quietly, "I'd like to explain. We'd both had bad nightmares before Logan woke us up… Bobby had a particularly bad one that triggered some pretty awful memories. We understand that Munch wasn't trying to be spiteful before, but I guess you could say it was the straw that broke the camel's back." She paused, glancing sadly at her sleeping partner, then looking back to the other six detectives. "We know none of you would be deliberately insensitive, and we appreciate that. But you need to be aware that this won't be the only time we have reactions like that."

"It's okay, Alex," Bishop reassured her. "We do understand. We've all dealt with victims before."

"Just don't take it personally if we blow up at any of you," Alex pleaded. "Because if that happens, chances are it's because we will have had next to no sleep, and we'll have come across something that will have triggered a bad memory."

"We won't, I promise you," Elliot said. "Is there anything we can do, though? To counter the whole 'no sleep' thing? Do you guys have sleeping pills, or anything like that?"

"No, just our prescribed painkillers," Alex answered softly, a part of her wishing deeply that she could just come clean and say that the only way to stop the nightmares was to let her and Bobby share a room… and a bed. "I… I don't think there's anything you can do to help there. The nightmares are going to come. I don't think there's anything that will stop that."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Fin pressed, staring at her intently. Alex's breath hitched just slightly in her throat as they locked stares. All of a sudden, she had a powerful sensation that Fin knew. Perhaps Bobby hadn't actually told him as such, despite the many times she knew they'd talked, but he was obviously intuitive enough to be able to read between the lines and pick out the truth.

Alex had to make a conscious effort to breath evenly. As tempting as it was to just come clean, she didn't dare. It was one thing for their companions to find them cuddled up together and asleep in the back of the van, but sleeping together in the same bed? Whether she could trust them to keep that under wraps or not, the bottom line was she dared not give away anything potentially damagingthat might get back to Salinger, inadvertently or otherwise.

"I'm sure," she answered firmly. "We'll manage. I won't say we'll be fine, but we will manage."

Elliot nodded.

"Okay, then. If you sure. By the way, we worked out sleeping arrangements. You three ladies together, obviously. Fin said he's happy to share a room with Goren, and Logan, Munch and I will take the third room. Think the big guy'll be happy with that arrangement?"

Alex nodded, and a glance at Fin confirmed her suspicions that he'd been instrumental in ensuring he and Bobby were roomed together. She flashed him a brief, but grateful look before looking back at Elliot.

"I think so. Thanks, Elliot."

Elliot nodded placidly, giving away nothing in his own expression.

"No problem."

* * *

Bobby awoke nearly an hour later, suffering cramping legs and a stiff neck, but in a markedly less distressed mood than when he'd walked out of the roadhouse. He accepted the sandwich, the coffee, and the news that he was going to be sharing a room with Fin with open gratitude, and the general mood in the van lightened considerably as a result.

"How far away are we now?" Bishop asked, deliberately not looking at either Bobby or Alex as she asked.

"Another two or three hours, maybe," Elliot answered.

"And the plan of attack when we do get there?" Munch asked.

"We'll go straight to the motel when we get there," Elliot explained. "Check in and get settled into our rooms… Then the local lieutenant is supposed to be meeting us over dinner. We'll get the rest of the info then. Like Liv said this morning, there's not really a lot we'll be able to do by the time we do get there. The best thing we can do is to try and get as good a night's sleep as we can, and start fresh first thing tomorrow morning."

"Do we know if they even have any suspects?" Logan asked. "I didn't see anything like that mentioned in the files we got this morning before we left."

"No suspects so far," Elliot replied, "but apparently they're still waiting on the forensic results from their latest victim, so there's always a possibility that something might come out of that."

"Unlikely," Bobby said as he helped himself to the coffee out of the thermos. "If they found nothing with the first five, they're even less likely to find something with the sixth. Serial killers usually get better at what they do, not sloppier, and this guy is good at what he does."

"They all make mistakes and end up screwing themselves over sooner or later," Logan pointed out. "You two are a perfect example of that."

Bobby and Alex exchanged glances, but neither said a word in response to Logan, each one thinking the same thing at the same time.

_Suck it up_…

"Maybe," Bobby said finally, "but we need to be prepared for the likelihood that there won't be anything to go on from this latest victim. We might just find we have to start from scratch."

"Great," Munch muttered. "There's a cheery thought."

"We'd all love to be home again within a week, John," Olivia said wearily. "Just accept that that probably isn't going to happen."

"No problem," Munch muttered sourly, sinking down into his seat. "Not like I have a life outside the job, anyway."

* * *

_tbc..._


	5. Arrival

_A/N_: To all you readers out there who are still holding to the hope that I will cough consummate Bobby and Alex's relationship, so to speak, I have one things to say. Chill! I'm not going down that path! I may 'blur the lines' occasionally, but this is not a B/A relationship in the making. Don't go reading more into certain parts of this chapter than there really are, and remember, it is possible for two people to tell each other 'I love you', and maintain a platonic relationship.

Also, I know this is not a particularly long chapter, butin light of the fact that I've stupidly started yet _another_ story, I wanted to get _something_ uploaded before the weekend. Here's hoping this falls in the 'short but sweet' category.

* * *

_Wolf River_

It was already getting dark by the time they arrived at their destination, shortly after five o'clock – dark and cold, judging by the air that hit them when the door was opened.

"You're gonna want your coats, everyone," Elliot announced, shivering a little as gust of icy wind hit him.

"Yes, Pop," Fin retorted, drawing laughter from the others. Elliot shook his head, smiling wryly to himself. Leaving his colleagues at the van to get their individual bags together, Elliot went to check them into the motel. He returned a few minutes later with three sets of keys.

"Okay, who wants?"

Olivia took one set, and Fin took another. Logan reached for the third set, but Munch beat him to it, snatching them quickly out of Elliot's hand.

"Don't even _think_ about taking the bed by the window," Logan threatened him as they headed off to their room. Elliot watched them go, then rolled his eyes.

"I can see I'm gonna have a blast. Okay, how about we meet back out here in, say, three quarters of an hour? Then we'll go to where we're supposed to be meeting with the local guy in charge."

Elliot headed off after Logan and Munch, and Olivia and Lyn made their way to their room. Alex hesitated for just a moment, exchanging reluctant looks with Bobby.

"You know," Fin said in a quiet voice, "I'd love to give you guys these keys and say go for it. I'd happily pay for a room for myself…"

Bobby stared at him, astonished, while Alex felt a familiar warmth creeping into her cheeks.

"You don't think that we're…" she started to ask, only to find that she couldn't finish that sentence. Fin smiled a little.

"Relax, Alex. I know you guys aren't together, not like _that_. But I figured from what Bobby's been telling me about the nightmares he has, that you probably haven't been adverse to sharing some creature comforts every so often. Like I said, I wouldn't mind, and I'm pretty sure that Elliot and Olivia would keep their mouths shut… but I'm not sure that John would."

"It's okay," Alex murmured, struggling to suppress the irrational disappointment she felt at Fin's words. "We knew we wouldn't be able to get away with that while we were here. I just hope the rest of you don't mind being woken up by our nightmares."

Fin looked sideways at Bobby, and favoured him with a reassuring smile.

"It doesn't bother me any, and I know that Liv won't care, either."

Alex sighed faintly.

"Thanks, Fin."

"No problem."

Sharing a last look with her partner, Alex turned and headed off after Lyn and Olivia. Bobby watched her go, but rather than turning to go to their room, he instead turned away, looking upwards. Fin came to stand beside him, following his line of sight to the mountain that rose up above the town. It looked innocent enough in the fading light of the day, but the events that had taken place within its borders were anything by innocent.

"You okay?" Fin asked when Bobby showed no sign of moving.

"We're going to have to go up there, aren't we?" Bobby said softly, a pain in his eyes that Fin knew he couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Probably," Fin confirmed, seeing no point in lying. "You think you can cope?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

Tearing his gaze away from the darkening peaks, Bobby turned and trudged across the asphalt to their room.

* * *

"That bed okay for you?" Olivia asked as Alex came in. She paused, noting with grim amusement that they'd saved her the bed closest to the bathroom.

"That's fine, thanks."

She deposited her bags on the floor at the end of the bed and sat down, carefully stretching her left arm out. Though she was no longer required to wear an arm brace, she'd discovered she still needed to be particularly careful as she was still prone to suffering varying degrees of pain.

"It still hurts sometimes, doesn't it?" Lyn asked, watching with sympathy. Alex nodded, rubbing at it gingerly.

"Mostly when the weather changes suddenly, but it's not too bad. I just have to be careful not to jar it. Although, eight hours in that van didn't help much."

"How many breaks was it?" Olivia asked. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

Alex shook her head. She didn't mind talking about it in small doses, but reflecting on or talking at length with anyone other than Bobby or their counsellors about _how_ it happened in the first place was not something she was as yet capable of doing.

Not that she actually remembered it that clearly, except perhaps in her worst nightmares. She didn't care to remember, either, though she occasionally wondered how much of that part of their little _adventure_ Bobby really remembered. As with the sudden surfacing of his memories of being in Mathers' van, she suspected he remembered much more than he was willing to disclose, even to her.

"It was broken in five places," she answered finally, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on her arm as she gently massaged it. She could almost sense them cringing at the thought of such a badly broken limb. "I finally managed to get rid of the arm brace a couple of months ago, although I still have to go for physio a couple of times a month."

"Still?" Lyn asked in surprise. "I thought you were done with that."

"No, not yet. A few more months, so my doctor keeps telling me. It's okay, though. Bobby's the unlucky one. He should have almost been ready to lose the leg brace by now, but thanks to that son of a bitch in Denton, he'll be stuck with it for at least another ten months, probably longer."

"He's lucky the damage wasn't permanent," Lyn murmured. "Deakins, too."

"What's Bobby going to do about physio while we're up here?" Olivia wondered, frowning a little. "He's supposed to have it every day, isn't he?"

Alex drew in a steadying breath. Here was yet another thing to worry about. Funny, how those around her had an uncanny knack for pinpointing the exact things that bothered her the most…

"Yes. He… He's got exercises that he'll need to do… We can't do much else about it."

"Will he be all right with just that?" Lyn asked.

"He'll have to be, won't he?" Alex snapped, her already thinly-stretched patience finally breaking. "Salinger hasn't left us much choice, has he?"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence that hung in the air like a bad smell. Alex sat frozen for a long moment before getting up abruptly and stumbling into the bathroom, pushing the door closed behind her. Once inside, she dropped the lid on the toilet seat, and sat down gingerly, shuddering violently and rubbing compulsively at her upper arms.

She didn't want to come across as bitchy to her two female colleagues, but the truth was that she just couldn't talk about any of it. Not the incidents themselves, or the ongoing aftermath. She was already dreading the oncoming night, and if she'd allowed the conversation to go any further, it would only have exacerbated any nightmares she was sure she was going to have.

Standing up shakily, silently hating the vulnerability that she felt she was exuding, she turned on the tap over the basin and splashed icy cold water over her face, trying desperately to get a grip.

Right then, she wanted nothing more than to be with Bobby, sitting cuddled up to him with his arms completely enfolding her. She wanted to feel safe and, right then, Bobby's company was the only sanctuary that she knew would afford her the comfort and security that she so desperately needed. She wanted it so badly, and it just about killed her to know that it was not a reasonable possibility.

She emerged from the bathroom nearly ten minutes later feeling self-conscious and embarrassed by her apparent snubbing of two women who had nothing but sympathy for her. Aside from a brief, reassuring smile from Olivia, though, neither of the other female detectives reacted at all. Quietly relieved, Alex went about changing into clothes more suited to the cold night.

"Hey," Lyn said suddenly, looking up at Olivia. "Do you know who the lieutenant in charge is?"

"Got it here somewhere," Olivia answered as she rifled through her folder. "Yeah, here it is. Lieutenant Gus Brenner. Why?"

Lyn hesitated, risking a glance in Alex's direction, but the other woman had her back turned and didn't notice. Lyn went on in a slightly more subdued tone.

"When we were here last, it was a guy called Pete Harrison. He was a complete jerk, didn't like us coming in and taking over. He really gave us the run-around, and at one point Deakins nearly throttled him."

Alex looked around, surprised and curious. This was something she hadn't heard before.

"Really?"

Lyn smiled at the memory.

"Oh, yeah. I remember Harrison was being really evasive, and wouldn't give Deakins a straight answer. Keep in mind, by that time Deakins was pretty stressed out. Anyway, Harrison mentioned, um… the… the cabin on the mountain, but then he claimed he couldn't take us up there because he didn't know where it was. Deakins grabbed him by his shirt collar, dragged him right in close and told him to find someone who did know. It was an eye-opener, that's for sure."

Alex felt her throat tighten almost painfully as she struggled to hold back fresh tears.

"He saved our lives. We would never have made it off that mountain alive if it hadn't been for Captain Deakins."

"We hear you well and truly repaid the favour in Britain," Olivia pointed out gently. Alex uttered a short, bitter laugh.

"Sure, if you don't could the arrow through his gut that left him paralysed for nearly two weeks."

"Don't, Alex," Olivia told her. "That wasn't your fault, and you know it. If you and Bobby hadn't done what you did, Graham would have killed him. Deakins said so in his report. We've all read it."

Alex sighed a little.

"Maybe. But we still feel like we let him down."

"Well, he doesn't," Lyn countered fiercely. "And as far as that goes, I think his opinion is the one I'll rely on."

Momentary silence fell, and Olivia was about to suggest that they finish getting ready for dinner and the meeting with Brenner when Alex spoke in a choked whisper. Tears that she could no longer hold back overflowed and spilled down her cheeks in a veritable flood.

"I don't… I don't want to be here…"

Olivia hurried over to her as Alex broke down, sliding her arms around Alex's slender shoulders and hugging her warmly.

"I know, honey. If I had my way, neither you or Bobby would be here now."

Ashamed though she felt of breaking down in front of two respected colleagues, once the torrent had started it would not be stopped. She broke into heavy, ragged sobs, but at the same time resisted Olivia's offers of comfort.

Realising that Alex wasn't giving in and letting go, Olivia looked up at Lyn, who stood watching with helpless concern.

"Go get Bobby," she whispered. Lyn nodded, relieved that there was something she could do, and hurried from the room.

Minutes later she returned with Bobby. The big detective didn't hesitate, but slipped in to take Olivia's place on the bed beside Alex. He spared both women a grateful look for having had the compassion and consideration to gethim. Then, his attention was exclusively on the petite woman beside him.

Moving with a care and grace that left both Olivia and Lyn wishing they were in their colleague's place, Bobby slipped his arms around Alex and drew her to him.

Even as Olivia and Lyn watched, Alex literally crumpled against Bobby's bulky frame. He dwarfed her, but his size only enabled him to wrap his arms fully around her.

Seemingly oblivious to the presence of the two female detectives, Bobby placed a lingering, tender kiss on the top of Alex's head. At no point did he try to tell her to hush, or that it was okay. He simply held her, protected and comforted in his arms.

"C'mon," Olivia murmured, collecting her coat and handbag. "Let's wait outside."

Lyn nodded in wordless agreement, and followed Olivia out of the room. Bobby watched them go out of the corner of his eye, then returned his attention fully to Alex.

"I've got you," he murmured, starting to rock her very gently in a soothing motion. "I've got you, Alex. Let it out."

Several minutes passed, and gradually her sobs quietened, and finally stopped altogether. She stayed cuddled in against him, though, reluctant to move away from that protective warmth.

"I can't do this," she whispered finally, distraught. "I thought I could, but I can't. I want to go home, Bobby. I can't cope with this place… with being here. It's too much."

"I know," he murmured. "I wish it were that simple… That we could just pack up and leave. But we can't. Not without risking losing our jobs."

She shuddered against him, a short, bitter laugh escaping her.

"Right now, I'm seriously tempted to tell Salinger that he can take our jobs, and shove them up his ass."

Bobby's grip on her tightened just fractionally.

"You don't mean that."

There was a hint of desperation in his voice that Alex couldn't possibly miss. She sighed softly, and hugged him all the more tighter.

"Okay, maybe I don't. But I'm getting there fast."

He kissed her gently, once more on the top of her head.

"Be brave, Alex."

She was silent for a long moment before pulling back gently out of his arms and looking up at him sadly.

"Do you remember the last time you said that to me?"

He looked genuinely puzzled.

"No. When did I say that?"

She wasn't terribly surprised that he didn't remember. He'd had a massive concussion at the time, after all.

"We were still tied up in Mathers' cabin. I think it might have been soon after we both woke up the first time… after you got the tape of both our mouths. I'd just said that Deakins wasn't going to find us, and you told me to be brave, except you were as scared as I was, even if you weren't willing to admit it."

It was Bobby's turn to smile bitterly.

"I wasn't scared, Alex." She looked up at him piercingly, and he offered her a crooked smile. "I was terrified. I hadn't been as frightened as that for a long time."

Alex sighed softly, somewhat placated by his confession.

"If we have to go up that mountain, I don't know how I'll cope. I really don't."

"Well… What if I promise that you won't have to?"

Alex stared at him sceptically.

"Bobby, you can't make a promise like that."

"Why not?"

"Don't forget, we're not in charge of this investigation…"

"Well, we might not be best friends with Stabler and Benson, but I doubt even they'd force us to go up there if we really couldn't handle it, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't bother telling Salinger, either. But even if there is anything to investigate up there, it's not going to need all eight of us. There shouldn't be any reason why you should have to up there."

"And what about you?"

"I… I think I can cope."

"Your eyes are saying something totally different, Bobby. I don't think you could cope with it any better than I could."

He reached over and grasped her hands gently in his own.

"Don't worry about me, Alex. I'll be fine."

Once more, she saw a different truth in his eyes, but decided against pushing the issue. He offered her a small smile, one that didn't quite hide the pain and fear in his own eyes. She returned his smile with a sad one of her own.

"After we went back to work the first time… and then after what happened in Denton… I never for a second thought we'd ever have to come back to this place. Damn Salinger. Damn him to hell."

He hugged her fiercely, blinking back the tears that threatened in his own eyes.

"I'll make you a deal. We get through this… _together_… and when we get back to New York, I'll help you kill Salinger."

She smiled into his sweater.

"Justifiable homicide?"

"Of course."

"Can I be as creative as I want?"

"Absolutely. The more creative, the better."

She laughed, unable to help herself. Bobby smiled, quietly relieved to have gotten a smile and a laugh out of her.

"You ready to get going, then?" he asked, gently disengaging himself from her and standing up.

"I suppose so. I just need to change shoes. I'll be out in a minute."

He nodded and headed towards the door. She watched him go, then spoke softly just as he was reaching for the doorknob.

"I love you, Bobby."

He stopped just short of opening the door, and looked back at her slowly. She smiled faintly, looking slightly embarrassed but determined all the same.

"You're my best friend. You're always there when I need you. I… I just wanted you to know."

A smile broke out across his face, lighting it up in a way that she rarely saw anymore.

"I love you, too, Alex. Thankyou."

Then he stepped out of the room, leaving her to finish getting ready.

* * *

_tbc..._


	6. The First Night

_A/N_: I finally got off (or on, as it were) my lazy butt and finished another chapter of Remembrance. I think my problem is I was trying too hard to come up with 'crime' plot, when this story is more along the lines of Deliverance- it is less about the crimes that are occurring, and the investigation side of things, than about Bobby and Alex's personal journey. I just had to remind myself, I didn't select angst as the second genre for nothing.

So here we go, andhere's hoping to more regular updates. (Between this and 'Blind Trust',I'm gonnasend myself batty...)

* * *

"I see the lovebirds are finally ready," Munch commented dryly when Alex finally emerged from the room. She shot him a dark look.

"We're already plotting to kill Salinger. Don't make us include you on the hit list."

Munch only smirked in response to Alex's light threat.

"Does anyone know where we actually have to go?" Fin wondered.

Elliot nodded.

"Uh huh. It's not far at all. In fact, it's about fifty metres… in that direction."

"Nice, Elliot," Olivia said dryly. "You could have just told us straight out that we were having dinner in the motel restaurant."

"Yeah," Munch added. "Then some of us wouldn't have had to stand outside freezing our asses off while we waited for certain detectives to detach themselves from each other."

"Shut up, John," Fin snapped. "You're being an asshole. Quit it, man."

"It's okay," Bobby said, though the look he directed at Munch suggested he was harbouring a less than forgiving attitude.

"C'mon," Elliot muttered. "Let's get inside."

* * *

"What is your problem, John?" Olivia asked in a low voice as they headed across the gravel car park to the restaurant. "Are you trying to start a fight?"

Munch scowled.

"Not really… It just pisses me off that we have to pander to Major Case."

"I think we all know this goes beyond the usual rivalries, John," Olivia reminded him. "It wasn't their choice to come here. If they'd had a choice, Bobby and Alex would rather be anywhere but here. You know it as well as we do. Why can't you just cut them a little slack? It isn't as though they're deliberately pushing in on our territory."

Munch glanced up, to where Bobby and Alex were walking just ahead of them.

"I can't help it, Liv. I just don't like Goren."

"And you think the rest of us are best buddies? C'mon, John, you know better than that."

"I know… I'm sorry, Liv. Look, maybe it'd be best if, when you're dishing out assignments, just keep me away from them. I'll work with Logan, or Bishop, but not Goren and Eames. Okay?"

Olivia stared thoughtfully at her colleague for a long moment before nodding.

"Okay, John."

* * *

Lieutenant Gus Brenner was waiting for them when the eight detectives tramped into the restaurant. He seemed slightly taken aback at how many of them there were, but quickly recovered in time to introduce himself and his colleague, a younger uniformed officer.

Elliot introduced himself with an apologetic smile.

"You weren't expecting all of us, I guess?"

"Actually, we were," Brenner answered with a wry smile. "I'm sorry, it's just that being told eight of you were coming isn't quite the same as seeing eight of you in person. Our table's ready, just through here. Hope you all like Chinese."

"Are you kidding?" Fin asked with a short laugh. "We're detectives. Chinese is one of our main food groups, especially after midnight on a long haul."

Brenner chuckled as he led them into a private function room.

"People after my own heart. Have a seat, please."

Once they were seated, Brenner spoke again.

"Now, I promise I'm pretty good with names and faces, so if you want to introduce yourselves once, I should be right after that. I can't speak for my subordinates, but that's another matter."

The detectives smiled in appreciation of Brenner's good humour and friendly attitude.

"Okay, I'll do the honours," Elliot agreed. "This is my partner, Olivia Benson. Mike Logan, Lyn Bishop, Alex Eames, Bobby Goren, Fin Tutuola and John Munch."

Brenner nodded amiably.

"Well, I'm glad you're all here. The more help we have, the better. But we'll get onto that later. No one works well on an empty stomach."

There was another murmur of appreciation, and for the next hour not a word was spoken that was work-related.

"That has got to be the best Chinese I've had for a long time," Logan said appreciatively as Brenner ordered a round of coffee with the waitress who came in to clear the table. "Pity we didn't have time to try this place out when we were here last…"

The comment was rapidly followed by a pained grunt from Logan as Bishop elbowed him hard in the side.

"Sorry," he muttered, not quite game enough to look at either Bobby or Alex. Brenner spared the two a puzzled look, but didn't press for an explanation.

"I guess it's time to get down to business," he said, reaching into a cardboard box that sat on the floor against the wall. He pulled out several thick manila folders, and passed them around the table to each of the detectives.

"This is all the case information we have so far," he explained. "Uh… Which of you is in charge?"

"Olivia and I are in charge," Elliot answered, keeping his attention focused on Brenner.

"Okay," Brenner murmured. "We've got six victims so far, all women of varying ages, and all sexually assaulted to some degree. The profile doesn't match exactly, but we're worried we've got a killer on our hands who is copycatting the Erik Mathers killings from ten months ago. Now, I was contacted by your Chief Salinger earlier this afternoon, and he told me four of you were directly involved in solving that case. And he said two of you in particular had invaluable experience that would help with the case?"

The statement was met with silence. Then, finally, Bishop spoke up.

"Detective Logan and myself were part of the task force that tracked Mathers down on the mountain," she said. Brenner looked from her to Elliot, puzzled.

"It's just the two, then? Because Salinger led me to believe…"

"Never mind anything Salinger told you," Elliot said dismissively. "The truth is, Salinger's a politician with his head stuck up his own ass. He wouldn't know what was going on around him if it was advertised with flashing neon signs."

Brenner smiled ruefully as he opened up his own copy of the case file.

"Yeah, I've known a few of those in my time. But if it's okay, I'd like to talk further with… Logan, was it…? and Bishop tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can work out just how similar the cases really are, and whether we do have a copycat on our hands, or just another whack-job doing his own thing."

Logan nodded, again deliberately avoiding looking at Bobby or Alex as he replied.

"Sure. We'll be happy to help out however we can."

Brenner nodded appreciatively.

"Thankyou."

* * *

"You okay?"

Bobby looked up as Fin spoke, pausing in the middle of removing the heavy calliper from his leg. They were back in their motel room after an extremely drawn-out discussion with Brenner and his deputy about the spate of killings. It was now after ten and the exhaustion of the day's events, as well as the effort not to show said exhaustion, had clearly taken its toll on Bobby.

"Sure," Bobby murmured, hoping he sounded more genuine than he felt. "I'm fine. Why?"

Fin paused, then walked over and sat next to Bobby on the bed.

"I'm just making sure. You know… you don't have to put up the 'tough guy' front to me."

That was answered with a long moment of silence before the detective finally spoke.

"I appreciate that, Fin, but I'm not putting on a 'tough guy' show for anyone."

"Not even Alex?"

Bobby smiled at that.

"Especially not Alex. She'd draw and quarter me if she thought I was trying to act tough just for her sake."

"So why _are_ you acting tough?"

Bobby's smile faded.

"You don't quit, do you? I told you, I'm not acting…"

"C'mon, man," Fin growled, just a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. "Don't act dumb to me. I know you too well. You think the three and a half years I spent as your partner in Narcotics didn't teach me to read you?"

Bobby looked away to the floor.

"You really want to hear about how just being here is making me want to throw up? About how I'm dreading tomorrow so much that I'd almost be willing to quit, just so I could go home? Is that what you want to hear? Between having to deal with all the memories just being in sight of that damn mountain drags to the surface, and the rest of you tripping over each other trying not to say anything to upset either of us, it's almost enough to tip us right over. And then there's that son of a bitch Salinger. If Elliot hadn't blown Brenner off over Salinger's call, I think I might have been right on the verge of doing that for real, and so would Alex."

Fin sighed softly.

"That asshole couldn't leave well enough alone, could he? It wasn't enough that he got you both back here, he had to shove another knife into the wound just to try and make it worse for you guys. Look, Bobby, I get all of that. I really do. I just want to know why you think you have to hide it from the rest of us. We all understand how hard this is going to be for you and Alex. None of us are going to go running back to Salinger and telling him that you chickened out, and couldn't get the job done. It ain't gonna happen, man, I promise you."

"It's not for you, or anyone else," Bobby confessed finally. "It's for me, Fin. This is harder than I ever imagined it could be, and we haven't even started the actual investigation yet. The truth is, if I don't put up this front, I doubt I'd last two minutes without breaking down."

"I'm sorry, man," Fin murmured. "I hadn't thought about it like that. I just thought you were putting on a show when you didn't need to."

"I know you all understand," Bobby said, "and I appreciate that. _We_ appreciate that. We'll do our best to do our fair share of the work, but we're going to have moments when the memories just get to be too much. We're going to have a lot of those moments, I think, and there's nothing we can do to stop it. There's nothing anyone can do." He paused, shifting his position on the bed and wincing as he finished removing the calliper. "Between that, and this, I just don't know how to deal with it. Putting on a front is the only way I _can_ deal with it. And it's only going to be worse in the morning."

"Nightmares?" Fin wondered, thinking of the number of times Bobby had told him of waking up in cold sweats, sometimes crying, or even screaming. Bobby answered with a quick nod.

"Yeah. If I don't have any, it'll be a miracle." He winced again as he gingerly rubbed his hands over his slowly-healing leg. "If I can even get up in the morning, it'll be a miracle. It's gonna cost me tomorrow, missing my physio session today."

A grin lit up Fin's face at that.

"Now, there's something I _can_ help with."

Bobby looked at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

Fin stood up and walked over to his bag, and began rummaging through it.

"Get your trousers off, and lie down. And if you crack any gay jokes, I'll shoot you."

Bobby couldn't suppress a grin at Fin's warning.

"Sorry, pal. Alex beat you to that already."

Fin glanced back at him, startled.

"What? Shooting you?"

"Yeah."

"When? I mean, not that I'm all that surprised by it. You're a total pain in the ass, after all, you know that."

"Funny," Bobby said dryly. "It happened in Denton, when we had that last showdown with Erik Mathers' father."

"Ah. But you never told me you were shot. You said you were hit in the shoulder with an arrow, and the son of a bitch broke your leg again, but you never said a word about getting shot."

"Alex was aiming at Graham. Unfortunately, she shot at him at the same moment that I tackled him. I just got in the way. She didn't shoot me deliberately."

"No? That _is_ a surprise."

A moment later, a pillow went flying across the room, hitting Fin squarely in the back. He turned back to Bobby, grinning as he picked up the pillow and took it back over to the bed.

"Watch it, man, or I might change my mind about doing this for you."

Bobby finally noticed the jar of oil that Fin was holding.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, I wasn't always a cop… as you well know. But what you _don't_ know is that years ago, in another life, I had a qualification for physiotherapy. I got it straight after coming out of high school, so I could help to look after my little brother. He had a degenerative disease, and he needed regular physio to keep the pain at bay. Now, get your damn pants off and lie down, and we'll see what we can do about keeping you on your feet tomorrow."

For a long moment, Bobby didn't move or speak, and Fin was starting to wonder if his offer of help was going to be rejected. Then, a grateful smile broke out across Bobby's face.

"Thanks, Fin," he said softly as he finally obeyed his friend's instructions. Fin smiled back, quietly relieved at Bobby's acquiescence.

"Just glad to help."

* * *

_Cold, hard floor… ropes burning into wrists, and ankles… blindfold tight around the eyes doing nothing to help the threatening migraine… Blood in the mouth… _

"_Aw, look at that. You got your gags off. _…_I guess I could tape your mouths up again but I suppose I don't really need to. Even if you wanted to waste your breath yelling for help, no one would hear you. Not where we are. _…_don't kid yourselves that any of your cop buddies are going to be busting down the front door any time soon. Even if they do somehow manage to work out that I'm their guy, this place where we are now is listed under an alias I picked at random years ago. So, we're perfectly safe for the time being. _…_I promise it won't be long now. I promise."_

_Cement floor gone… replaced by hard, rocky ground… Mathers, kneeling over him, sneering cruelly… That damned crossbow… And Alex… Alex is dead… I'm dead too…

* * *

_

Bobby awoke with a start, half-sitting upright in bed with a violent jerk. His breath came in ragged gasps that hurt his chest. Tears of pain filled his eyes. He tasted blood in his mouth, and it took him a moment to realise that he'd bitten his tongue in his sleep.

Gradually, the erratic breathing eased, but the sickening feeling of panic and terror remained, churning in his gut and leaving him feeling sick and miserable.

Still in a semi-daze, Bobby looked around the darkened room, and his gaze finally fell on Fin. The other detective was sound asleep, apparently undisturbed by Bobby's abrupt awakening.

Fighting back the urge to groan aloud, or to make any sort of vocal noise just to reassure himself that he was indeed awake and, therefore, safe, Bobby slowly extricated himself from the tangled bedcovers and made his way carefully into the bathroom.

He limped through the door, closing it behind him and turning on the light over the mirror, giving himself enough light to see without nearly blinding himself. Then, sighing faintly with relief, Bobby sank down onto the chair that Fin had placed in the bathroom for him earlier that evening, so that he wouldn't be forced to stand for longer than absolutely necessary.

He knew damn well that he shouldn't have gone even that short distance without the calliper, but the short term relief of not being weighted down by the heavy implement momentarily outshone the long term necessity for constant support. Even now, though, he could feel the pain starting to gain momentum, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to sit here for very long.

Grimacing, Bobby reached across and turned on the faucet. The water that flowed from the tap was one step away from freezing… Just like the freezing water into which he and Alex had fallen on that fateful night. The fall that had left him with two broken legs, and Alex with a severely broken arm. The fall that had damn near killed them both.

He splashed the icy water onto his face, wanting desperately to rid himself of those terrible images. The nightmare had been bad enough on its own, without torturing himself with more unwanted memories.

He shuddered, pressing one hand over his eyes. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to go and wake up Alex, tell her about his nightmare, and take comfort in knowing she understood. But he didn't dare. Not that he thought Benson or Bishop wouldn't understand, but simply because he didn't feel comfortable letting them see him in such a state. There was nothing macho in his attitude. He just hated feeling vulnerable like this, and he hated even more having that vulnerability on show to everyone around him.

He grimaced again. Okay, maybe it was being macho, at least to a degree. But in the end, he still had a right to his privacy, and that included not having his traumas and miseries publicised.

The door opened and dim light flooded in from the motel room as Fin looked in at him.

"Bobby? You okay?"

Bobby didn't answer, instead looking away to hide the tears that threatened in his eyes. Fin came all the way in, watching his friend with deep concern.

"You're not okay. Wanna talk about it?"

For a split second, Bobby nearly said no. But common sense ruled, and he forced himself to be gracious and accept the offer.

"Yeah… But not in here."

"C'mon," Fin murmured. He helped him get up, and insisted Bobby put an arm around his shoulders and lean on him to keep his weight off his leg. Bobby complied meekly. He'd made a mistake in going any distance without the calliper, and could feel the effects of that mistake starting to take hold already.

"Here, sit on your bed," Fin instructed him. "Stretch your leg out slowly… That's it. Man, how'd you cope just wearing boxers? It's freezing!"

Bobby managed a strained smile.

"My boxers, or your duck pyjamas. I'll take the boxer shorts any day."

"Oh yeah," Fin snorted. "NYPD boxers. Real chic, pal."

"Ah, shut up."

Fin smiled, quietly pleased to have gotten a smile and a joke out of his friend. Grabbing the oil from the table, Fin rubbed some onto his hands and began to gently massage Bobby's leg, silently and acutely aware of the pain that was all too visible on Bobby's face.

"So what was the nightmare about?" he asked quietly.

Bobby didn't answer immediately. He thought it over for nearly a minute before speaking.

"It was just a mixture of things. When Mathers came and talked to us in that room in his cabin… Being out in the cold… And at the end, after he shot Alex and he was about to kill me. It was just a whole lot of memories that I don't want."

"It's not getting any better, is it?" Fin murmured. "The nightmares, I mean. You told me how bad they were to start with, and they haven't gotten any better."

"No," Bobby whispered. "It's the same, every night. The… The only time we don't have nightmares is when we… when we're together."

Fin paused for just a moment before continuing to massage the scarred limb.

"You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but when you say together, you do mean sleeping together, don't you?"

Bobby smiled faintly.

"Not in the biblical sense, Fin."

Fin smiled, perhaps just a little bit sheepishly.

"Sorry. Didn't mean anything by that."

Bobby smiled ruefully.

"Yes, you did. It's okay, though. Yes, Alex and I have slept together in the same bed, but there's nothing sexual in it. It's just for mutual comfort and security. It's the only time we can both feel totally safe."

"I shouldn't have been surprised," Fin mused. "The relationship you two have is really one of a kind, and I think I can safely say that I've never seen a partnership as close as yours and Alex's is. You're a lucky guy, Bobby. I hope you know that."

"I know," Bobby murmured. "I know I'm lucky."

Fin smiled to himself as Bobby's eyes started to flutter closed. Between the quiet conversation and his careful massaging of Bobby's leg to loosen the muscles and ease the tension and burgeoning pain, it was starting to send Bobby back to sleep.

"C'mon, buddy, lie down," Fin murmured. "That's it. Just relax, okay?"

Bobby surrendered to Fin's instructions without protest. He could feel sleep starting to take hold once more and, after the previous night's general state of sleeplessness, was more than willing to give in. He settled down in the warm bed, staring up at the ceiling as Fin continued to massage his leg.

"You think it's just… just coincidence?"

Fin glanced at Bobby questioningly.

"Is what coincidence?"

"These murders. Coincidence, or a copycat?"

"I don't know, man. I hope it's just coincidence. But I suppose we've gotta be prepared for it not to be. What do you…?"

Fin trailed off, leaving the question unfinished. Bobby was asleep. Smiling to himself, Fin rose up and carefully pulled the blankets up to cover his friend, and then went to wash the oil off his hands.

With a bit of luck, that would be the only disturbance of the night, and Bobby would sleep peacefully until morning. He glanced at the alarm clock, and his smile faded. It was only just on midnight now. They had both settled down to sleep around eleven, so that meant Bobby hadn't even lasted an hour before the nightmares kicked in.

He sighed softly to himself as he settled back into bed. He could only hope Alex was having a better night. If not, he would have to consider talking to Elliot and Olivia on the quiet about altering the sleeping arrangements. The trick would be doing it in such a way that wouldn't set off the alarms.

Another sigh escaped him as sleep started to creep over him once more. Tomorrow. He'd deal with it tomorrow.

* * *

_tbc_... 


	7. Surprises and Suspicions

_A/N_: Wow. Two chapters in one week. If I keep that up, I might just finish this story sometime this year... LOL Thanks to all who have submitted reviews. It really does help to know people are reading (and, hopefully, enjoying) your work.

* * *

Bobby awoke shortly after five o'clock feeling more rested than he had for some time. Though he didn't exactly feel a hundred percent, it was still a definite improvement on how he'd felt the previous morning. He suspected that had a lot to do with Fin's insistence on massaging his leg after waking up from that nightmare through the night.

He sat up slowly, marvelling that the pain in his leg was not as bad as it tended to be first thing in the morning. Again, that was thanks to Fin's skills.

Though he didn't need to be up for another couple of hours, Bobby took the opportunity to make his way into the bathroom and have a quick shower. He'd overheard Logan complaining bitterly the evening before about the water pressure in the room he shared with Stabler and Munch, and Fin had discovered their room was no better. Bobby hadn't said a word about it. The truth was, he was grateful for the weak water pressure in the shower. It meant he could enjoy a good soaking, and not suffer excess pain from the water hammering down on his slow-healing leg.

Dressing warmly, pulling on his winter parka, and pulling his favourite black beanie down over his ears, Bobby made his way out of the room, leaving Fin to sleep.

He paused just outside the door, wincing a little at the sight of the mountain that loomed up in front of him, ominous and threatening in the memories and secrets that it kept. He looked away, unsettled, and that was when he saw her.

Alex sat on a bench seat a few rooms along, staring up at the mountain. Her face was unnaturally pale in the dim light of the early morning, and she had her arms wrapped tightly around her body as she rocked ever so slightly back and forth. Feeling a deep twinge of concern, he made his way over to her.

"Alex?"

She didn't respond, didn't give any indication that she'd heard him. He sat down carefully next to her, and reached out to brush his fingertips gently against her cheek. Her flesh was icy to the touch, a sign that she'd been sitting out in the cold for some time.

She stirred at his touch, and looked up at him, her eyes full of pain and fear. It only added to the nausea in Bobby's gut. Fear was not a natural state of mind for Alexandra Eames, and he hated seeing it reflected in her brown eyes.

"Alex, you're freezing. How long have you been sitting out here?" he asked softly as he slipped his coat off and placed it gently around her shoulders, then gathered her to him in a protective and warming embrace. She melted against his chest, and though she shed no tears, he had no trouble interpreting the slight shudder that passed through her body.

"A while," she mumbled.

He guessed that 'a while' probably more accurately translated into 'hours'.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

She shuddered again.

"I don't think so."

"Well… What about Benson and Bishop?"

"They… They never woke up. I got to sleep after a while… But I woke up again… I thought I screamed, but I can't have done. I couldn't breathe for a minute, I was so scared. Then, I was too frightened to go back to sleep. I… I couldn't even get up to come and get you. By the time I could make myself move, it was just after three-thirty. I… I couldn't see the point."

He hugged her all the more tighter.

"We've got to do something about this. You can't operate without sleep, Alex."

She pulled back from him a little, and smiled up at him weakly.

"Sure I can. Just get me a coffee with a triple shot of caffeine, and keep 'em coming."

He couldn't bring himself to smile. This was two nights in a row now that Alex had had little to no sleep, and he had no intention of letting it go on.

"C'mon," he murmured, getting to his feet, and drawing her up with him.

"What are we doing?"

"You're going to get at least a couple of hours sleep."

She resisted when she realised he was urging her in the direction of his and Fin's room.

"Bobby, no… We can't… If it gets back to Salinger…"

"Then I'll personally shoot whoever opens their big mouth. Right now I don't care who finds out, Alex. I just care about you. And two nights without sleep isn't healthy. Now c'mon, and don't argue."

She was no match for him ordinarily when he got it into his head that she needed to do something for her own wellbeing, and more-so now that she was semi-exhausted from sleep deprivation. She reluctantly allowed herself to be guided along and into his room.

As he led Alex over to the bed, Bobby paid no heed to Fin, who was still sleeping soundly. Gently, he took his coat from her shoulders and sat her down on his bed. He then sat next to her, removing his leg brace and then his shoes. He pulled off her shoes as well when she made no effort to do so herself.

"What now?" she asked softly, her gaze flickering nervously to Fin. Bobby answered by moving carefully around her and lying down on the bed with his back up against the wall. She regarded him doubtfully, then looked pointedly back at Fin once more.

"He knows already, Alex," Bobby murmured, taking her wrist and gently drawing her down to him. "Now lie down."

She finally gave in and lay down beside him on the narrow bed, sighing softly in relief as their arms went around each other in an automatic and instinctive action. Her head rested in against his shoulder and her eyes closed, soothed by the tender way he stroked her hair.

"Sleep," Bobby whispered. "You're safe, now. I've got you, and you're safe. Go to sleep, Alex. It's okay."

He fell silent as he felt her body relax against his, and her breathing slowed and deepened as she slipped easily into sleep.

A sad smile crept across his face as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. In a way, this wasn't all that different to that night in Mathers' cabin, where they had curled up together on a narrow bed, exhausted, frightened and hurting, knowing the potential consequences if they were caught.

A grimace found its way onto his face at that thought.

It wasn't entirely true that he didn't care if the others found out. If someone – Munch, perhaps – were to walk in at that moment, and see them like this, he had no doubt that it would inevitably end up back with Salinger, and then they would be facing either forced separation or the sack. Either option was equally unpalatable to Bobby.

In the end, though, both his and his partner's mental, emotional and physical wellbeing had to take priority. After all, what good was it to them, or their colleagues, if sheer mental and physical exhaustion left them both incapable of doing their jobs?

He drew Alex in closer, taking comfort in the knowledge that he had the power to make her feel safe, and feeling a sensation of warmth grow deep inside him at knowing the reverse was also true. At no moment, waking or otherwise, did he feel as safe as he did when he was with Alex. They gave each other a mutual feeling of comfort and security that they could find nowhere else, and Bobby would be eternally grateful that they had a captain who understood that.

His own eyes closed as he relaxed to the reassuring sensation of Alex curled up in his arms, and his grip on her slim body loosened just slightly as he joined her in slumber.

* * *

Fin awoke to the light sound of someone knocking on the door. Yawning widely, his mind still foggy with sleep, he dragged himself out of bed and over to the door, pausing just long enough to glance at the alarm clock. It read quarter to seven. Well, he supposed wearily, it was _almost_ time to get up anyway…

He opened the door to find Olivia standing there, a mildly worried look on her face that faded into amusement at the sight of his pyjamas.

"Ducks, Fin? Somehow I didn't picture you as a duck person."

"Don't start on me, Liv. What is it?"

We were wondering if you or Bobby knew where Alex is. She was gone when Lyn and I woke up this morning."

Concern creased Fin's features.

"You think maybe she had a bad dream, and went walk-about?"

"If she had a nightmare, she didn't wake us up," Olivia said, a touch defensively. Fin raised an eyebrow quizzically, but decided not to push it.

"Well, she never came knockin' on our door. I would've woken up if she had. Hang on, let me just…"

Fin trailed off very abruptly as he turned away from the door, looking towards Bobby's bed.

"I'll be damned…"

"What is it?" Olivia asked, then stepped forward and pushed the door open wider to see what had so surprised him.

"Oh my god," Olivia whispered in shock as she looked past Fin to the bed on the other side of the room, and at the two sleeping detectives that occupied it. Silence reigned for nearly minute before Olivia ventured another tentative question.

"So… How long do you think…?"

"Wouldn't have a clue," Fin answered honestly. "Although… Look, they're both in their clothes. Probably not that long. Maybe an hour or two, tops."

"Well, clearly one of them had a bad night," Olivia murmured. "You know, I'd love to just leave them be, but I don't know that it'd be a good idea for any of the others to get wind of this."

"Get wind of what?"

Both Fin and Olivia whirled around to find Elliot had appeared behind them. He looked amiable enough, until his gaze went beyond the two of them, and he finally spotted Bobby and Alex. An instant later, the smile dropped from his face like a rock.

"What the hell…?"

Fin promptly ushered both Elliot and Olivia out of the doorway, pulling the door almost closed behind him.

"Hear me out, Elliot, before you freak. Bobby talked to me about this a little last night, after he woke up from a pretty bad nightmare. He said they do that on a fairly regular basis…"

"What, sleep together?" Elliot asked incredulously. Fin nodded.

"Yeah, but that's just it, Elliot. That's exactly what they do. They _sleep_. Bobby said that all it is, is mutual comfort and security. He said the only times neither of them has any nightmares is when they're together. That it's the only time either of them can feel completely safe."

The stony look on Elliot's face slowly began to dim and, gradually, understanding flickered in his eyes. Fin pushed the door open again, and motioned for Elliot to look in at the sleeping couple.

"Have a good look at them, Elliot. You look, and if you think there's anything improper happening there, then go ahead. You call Salinger. Let him crucify them"

"Take it easy, Fin," Elliot murmured, grimacing at the mere mention of Salinger's name. "I wouldn't turn them in to Salinger. Nothing they could do is worth selling them out to that son of a bitch. But I think we'd better have a little chat with them later on this morning, Liv."

He stepped away from the door, looking briefly away to the mountain.

"You'd better wake 'em up, Fin. Before Munch wakes up, at least, if you know what I mean. And get dressed. Those pyjamas are scaring me."

"Hilarious," Fin grumbled, but retreated back into the room without argument.

Shaking his head, but quietly relieved by Elliot and Olivia's apparent acceptance of Bobby and Alex's unique sleeping arrangements, Fin walked over and laid one hand gently on Bobby's shoulder. The big detective awoke immediately, looking up at Fin dazedly.

"Time to get up, Bobby. For both of you."

A sheepish smile crossed Bobby's face. Shifting a little, he gently stroked Alex's cheek with the back of his hand.

"Alex, time to wake up."

She stirred and moaned softly, then pressed in closer against him.

"Mm, not yet," she mumbled, her voice muffled by his sweater. "Just a little longer…"

Bobby smiled down at her affectionately.

"C'mon, Alex. I'll get you that triple strength coffee, and a stack of pancakes to go with it."

The offer was met with momentary silence.

"Can I have ice cream?"

"Anything you want."

She gave a long sigh, then pulled slowly back from him and sat up. A moment later, she saw Fin watching them with amusement.

"It's okay," Fin reassured her when a mixture of uncertainty and fear passed fleetingly over her face. "I won't say a word." He paused, hating to potentially stress them both out, but they had to know. "I think you'd better be prepared for Elliot and Olivia wanting to have a talk with you both some time today, though."

Bobby and Alex both froze, staring at Fin with identical looks of borderline panic on their faces.

"I'm sorry," Fin said ruefully. "Olivia knocked on the door. I didn't even notice you were here, Alex. I opened it up, and she saw you only about two seconds after I did. Then Elliot appeared, and he saw you as well."

"Well," Alex said gloomily, "there go our jobs. Salinger will crucify us over this."

"Don't be so sure," Fin said as Alex got up slowly and stretched. "They were a little startled, but Elliot said straight out that no way was he going to sell you guys out to Salinger, not for any reason."

Alex looked back at Bobby, bemused.

"Stabler has a soft spot. Who knew?"

"And what about Benson?" Bobby asked tentatively. Fin grinned, then.

"Just between us? I doubt she'd admit it, but I think she thought you looked cute together."

Both Bobby and Alex reddened a little, and Fin chuckled delightedly.

"I don't think you have to worry, though. It won't go past Olivia or Elliot. Do you mind me asking, though…?"

"I woke up just after five," Bobby explained. I couldn't see the point in trying to go back to sleep, so I got up, had a shower and got dressed. I found Alex sitting outside…"

"I'd been out there since about three-thirty this morning," Alex said, and Fin blanched.

"You could've frozen!"

"I think I nearly did," Alex admitted ruefully. "Anyway, Bobby came out and found me, and I told him I pretty much hadn't slept at all, so he brought me back in here…"

"And the rest is history, so to speak," Bobby concluded.

Fin straightened up and stepped towards the bathroom.

"Well, you both might wanna hot-foot it out of here before Munch surfaces, or you'll both be history. The way he's behaving, I don't know how he'd react to you both being in here together."

Alex scowled as she got up, and turned to help Bobby with his shoes, and his leg brace.

"He smarts off to us anymore than he already has, and I might just flatten him."

Fin looked at Bobby, one eyebrow raised, but the other detective only grinned proudly with a look that very clearly said '_That's my girl_'.

"Okay," Fin conceded with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "I'm having a shower. I'll see you both at breakfast."

* * *

Olivia and Elliot were the only ones in the restaurant when Bobby and Alex arrived.

"Good morning," Elliot said mildly as they sat down. "Sleep well?"

Bobby and Alex exchanged glances. To a casual observer, the question probably sounded completely innocent. They knew better.

"Eventually, thankyou," Alex answered, her voice giving away nothing. Olivia was watching her intently.

"I was worried when I woke up, and you were gone."

A dark look flitted across Alex's face.

"I was _gone_ since three-thirty. And I'd been awake since just after midnight."

"Nightmare?" Elliot asked softly.

"Bad one," Alex confirmed, her gaze dropping. She was suddenly ashamed for snapping at Elliot and Olivia had done nothing but show them both sincere kindness and understanding. The last thing she needed to be doing was putting them off-side by letting her usual cynicism and sarcasm rise to the surface. She felt a hand close over her own, and looked up to find Bobby smiling at her encouragingly. She returned the smile, grateful once more for his protective presence.

"Fin told us you saw us," Bobby said simply, looking back to the two SVU detectives. Elliot nodded.

"Yeah, we did. Did you want to talk about anything?"

There was no demand in Elliot's voice, only a simple invitation. It was that, and that alone, that got them talking.

Over the next ten minutes, they quietly told Elliot and Olivia about the night in Mathers' cabin, and how learning to overcome so-called professional barriers had saved both their lives and their sanity.

Elliot and Olivia listened in silence, not interrupting once. Only when the story had been told, did Olivia finally speak.

"Well, I guess it's pretty clear what we have to do."

Elliot nodded in wordless agreement. Bobby and Alex regarded them with visible anxiety.

"You… aren't going to tell Salinger…?" Bobby asked tentatively. Elliot smiled at that.

"Give us some credit, Goren. We hate that asshole as much as you guys do. No, what Olivia meant was, now we know what we have to do to make sure both of you get a decent night's sleep tonight." He paused, his gaze flickering past them to the entrance. Bishop and Logan had just entered, and Fin and Munch were close behind. "Just leave it with us, okay?"

Then the other four detectives joined them, and the conversation was effectively ended.

"We've got forty-five minutes," Elliot announced as they all sat down and a waitress approached. "Since the NYPD is so kindly footing the bill for this, I suggest we all get in a good, proper cooked meal while we can. Because once we get started on this case, it'll probably be sandwiches and take-out all the way."

"Duly noted," Alex replied. She looked sideways at Bobby. "Looks like you get to wait until we get home to buy me the pancakes."

Bobby grinned back at her.

"What? You mean this doesn't count?"

"Don't make me hit you," she warned him, drawing amused grins from the others. She turned her attention to the waitress "In the meantime, I think I'll have the French Toast, and the strongest coffee you've got."

There was a unanimous murmur of consent over the coffee, though the breakfast orders varied from muesli and warm milk for Bishop to a full cooked breakfast with sausage, steak, egg, mushrooms and tomatoes for Munch.

"What?" Munch grumbled when they all stared at him. "I get hungry in the mornings, and I don't eat much else through the day."

"That's true," Fin agreed ruefully. "Not that it'd matter. With your metabolism, you could put away six meals a day and never gain an ounce. I only have to look at a Big Mac and I put on a couple of pounds. Lucky son of a bitch."

A ripple of laughter passed through the group, and they settled down to enjoy what could easily be their last decent, peaceful meal for a while.

* * *

_Back in New York, later that morning  
__11th Floor, One Police Plaza_

Deakins sat back slowly in his chair. He had just come off a conversation with Bobby and Alex. They had called him immediately after breakfast, as soon as they could get away from their six colleagues. He'd not been surprised to learn they'd had a bad night, and that Alex in particular had suffered greatly. When Bobby told him their motel was almost right at the foot of Gore Mountain, he had had a hard time not swearing out loud. The motel had been organised personally by Salinger, and though Deakins supposed it could have just been a coincidence, he seriously doubted it.

To his greater concern, though, was the news that Bobby and Alex had been caught out by Benson and Stabler sleeping in the same bed. He'd hoped they wouldn't have needed to resort to that. Now, he could only hope that Benson and Stabler were open-minded enough not to go running straight back to Salinger. Bobby had seemed confident that that wouldn't happen, but Deakins had his reservations. He'd known plenty of tough-minded cops give in to the likes of Salinger simply to save their own asses. Despite Cragen's reassurances, he had no reason to believe Benson and Stabler wouldn't do the same if the proverbial noose was tightened around their own throats. And he wouldn't put it past Salinger to do it, either.

Deakins tapped a pen absently against the desktop. Something was bothering him greatly about the whole situation, but he just couldn't pinpoint what it was. He grimaced a little. Yes, he did.

Salinger had had the perfect opportunity in front of him two days ago to have Bobby suspended, and charged with assault, and yet he had backed down when Logan threatened him. Something just wasn't ringing true.

Cragen was right. Logan was still on fairly shaky ground. It wouldn't have taken much for Salinger to have him yanked out of Major Case, and back on Staten Island, but he had backed down when Logan made his threats. Almost as though he was desperate to make sure that Bobby went back to Gore Mountain. _Desperate_…

Not entirely sure what he was doing, Deakins picked up his phone and dialled the number for Salinger's office. It was answered promptly by his personal assistant, a young man by the name of Warren.

"This is Captain James Deakins, from Major Case in One Police Plaza," Deakins introduced himself. "I'd like to speak to Chief Salinger, please. Is he available?"

"I'm sorry, Captain Deakins," the young man's voice answered. "Chief Salinger's father passed away, and he's taken compassionate leave from yesterday. He won't be back for at least a week."

Deakins thanked Warren, and hung up. The alarms were ringing loud and clear in his mind. Something was very wrong. He just couldn't work out what. Standing up, he made his way awkwardly over to the door of his office, looking around until he spotted who he wanted.

"King! In my office, now."

Oliver King strode over, drawn by the urgency in his captain's voice.

"Problem, sir?"

"I hope not. I need you to do something for me, but do it under the radar. Find out everything you can about Salinger, about his family and anything else you can find."

"Should I be looking for anything in particular?" King wondered. Deakins looked grim as he sank back into his chair.

"I wish I could give you a more specific idea, but I can't. Just get together everything you can, and bring it back to me. It would be good if you could get it done before the end of today."

King stared at Deakins for a long moment.

"Does this have anything to do with that bastard sending Goren and Eames back to Gore Mountain?"

"It might have," Deakins conceded. King nodded, determination steeling his craggy features.

"Consider it done. I'll have the information to you as soon as possible."

He wheeled around and strode out of the office to carry out the task. Deakins watched him go, then slumped back in his chair. He'd learned over the years to trust his gut when it told him something was wrong, and it usually didn't send him astray. But now…? Now, he prayed to God that he was wrong. He really did.

* * *

_tbc..._


	8. Interlude

* * *

_Wolf River Police Department_

"You know, I don't know whether to be grateful, or pissed off."

Bobby smiled a little in response to his partner's retort. They were currently ensconced in a small, disused office in the local precinct building, reading through the individual reports on each of the six murders that had happened so far.

Elliot and Olivia, Fin and Munch, and Logan and Bishop were all out seeing to various other assignments. Logan and Bishop had agreed to go to the morgue to view the body of the most recent victim. Fin and Munch were scouting around the town, and Olivia and Elliot… Actually, they had no clue where Olivia and Elliot were right then. All they knew was, they weren't anywhere in that building.

"We'll be out there soon enough," Bobby murmured as he pushed one report to the side and picked up another one. "I'm happy to stay right here for now, though."

Alex regarded him seriously.

"You mean, you're happy to stay out of sight of that mountain."

He paused, then looked up at her slowly.

"Yes," he admitted quietly. "Alex, tell me something?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you come and get me this morning? Why sit outside like that? And don't tell me it's because you didn't think there was any point at three-thirty in the morning, or that you didn't want to wake Fin up."

She sighed and looked away from him.

"I froze up. The thing is, Bobby, I _was_ coming to get you, but when I got outside and I saw the mountain… All the memories came back like a tidal wave. I… I sat down, and then I couldn't move. I couldn't take my eyes off the damn thing, and then I kept going over and over in my head everything that happened when I woke up the next morning."

"After we had that fall?"

"Yes."

He reached across the desk, and grasped her hand gently.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? That I couldn't sleep, and then I let myself get freaked out by a big hill? It wasn't your fault. Jesus, Bobby…"

"I'm sorry that we have to be here for… for something that isn't even our area of expertise." He pushed the reports away from him in frustration. "This whole situation is insane. What are we doing here? This is an SVU case, we shouldn't even be here."

"If the Commissioner hadn't been away, we wouldn't have had to come," Alex said bitterly. She paused, then a faint smile touched her lips. "He's going to hit the roof when he gets back and Deakins tells him what Salinger's done. Can you imagine what Adkins will probably do to him?"

Bobby scowled.

"I know what I'm hoping he'll do."

It was Alex's turn to squeeze her partner's hand reassuringly.

"We're not the only ones who would love to see him fired, but we all know it probably won't happen. Salinger would have to fuck up in a big way to get the boot. Anyway, what are we worried about? We're going to kill him, remember?"

A smile crept onto Bobby's face almost before he realised it, and a moment later he was chuckling softly.

"Right, I forgot."

Alex smiled, pleased she'd gotten a laugh out of him.

"Well, don't forget it again."

She hesitated, watching as he returned his attention to the files in front of him. There was a question that had been hanging in her mind since the early hours of that morning, but she didn't care to upset him again. She was still mulling it over in her mind when Bobby looked back up at her slowly.

"What is it, Alex?"

"Bobby, how much do you remember of that morning?"

The small smile that had briefly lit up his features vanished with frightening speed. He sat up straight, shifting his right leg uncomfortably under the desk.

"I remember waking up to find that arrow gone from my back. I remember…"

He never finished the sentence. A second later, he stood up so fast from the desk that he chair went over backwards with a crash, and he stumbled from the room, in such a hurry that he left his cane behind. Frightened and concerned, Alex hurried after him, and was just in time to see him disappear into the men's bathroom.

One of Brenner's deputies, David Miller, had just been coming out, and barely avoided being bowled over by the big detective.

"Something he ate?" Miller inquired of Eames, looking mildly astonished. Alex smiled weakly.

"Something like that. Sorry…"

"Hey, it's okay. You guys are going through the reports from all the killings, aren't you?"

Alex nodded wordlessly, and Miller smiled in sympathy.

"It's understandable, then. There's some pretty gruesome stuff in there. I'd probably feel like throwing up myself. Tell your partner not to worry about it."

Miller walked off, then, walking high on the cloud of his own benevolence. Alex watched him go in amusement, then looked back to the men's room door. She was about to consider going in after him, when the door opened and Bobby emerged looking pale but sheepish.

"Here," Alex murmured, handing him his cane.

"Thanks. I… I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," she ordered him. "Don't you dare apologise, Bobby."

They made their way back into the little room they'd been allocated, and Alex closed the door carefully behind them.

"You want to talk about it?"

He wouldn't… or couldn't look at her.

"Not really," he mumbled. "I guess I need to, though."

She said nothing, waiting patiently for him to go on. Eventually, he did.

"The first thing I remember of that morning is waking up next to you. For a second… I… I thought you were dead. You were so cold. I think I cried with relief when I realised you were still alive. But you were bleeding… badly… and I had to get that arrow out of your leg."

"You don't remember how we actually got out of the water?" she asked softly, trying to hide the disappointment she felt. Bobby shook his head.

"No. There's nothing in between when we fell, and then. I knew that… that I had to get that arrow out of your leg, but I had to be ready to do something to stop you from bleeding out. So I crawled around… got a fire going… Then I broke off the arrowhead from the arrow in your leg, and put it in the fire."

"How the hell did you get a fire going?" she asked as it occurred to her how much of a near impossibility that task must have been for him.

"You know, I really don't remember? I mean, I remember finding sticks for it… but I don't remember how I actually managed to start it."

"So what happened then?" Alex asked softly.

"When the arrowhead was hot enough, I pulled the arrow out of your leg… and then I cauterised the entry and exit points to seal the wounds. I think… I think that was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Even though you were unconscious… I was terrified you were going to wake up, and… and…"

"But I didn't," she reminded him gently. "I never felt a thing. I wish I could say the same for you, though."

Bobby looked up at her slowly.

"I'm sorry you had to do that, Alex, but I would have died if you hadn't."

"I know that, Bobby. I don't regret having to do it, and it was the least I could do to reciprocate."

She stood up and walked around behind him, then slipped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him warmly.

"With all these awful memories, it's a wonder that either of us ever get any sleep at all."

"Only when we're together," Bobby murmured, shutting his eyes and taking comfort in her closeness. "That's the only time we sleep peacefully."

"I wonder what Elliot and Olivia meant when they said that now they know how to make sure we get a decent night's sleep tonight?" Alex wondered.

"Who knows? They can't have meant sending us home. They would have said that's what they were going to do."

"I know what I hope they meant," Alex said with a wry smile as she broke away from Bobby and sat back down. "But I'm not getting my hopes up."

He returned her smile with a tentative one of his own.

"How are you doing with those reports?" he asked, deciding it was time to change the subject. Alex sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"To be honest, Bobby? This is almost nothing like the Erik Mathers case. Someone is abducting women, taking them at least part of the way up the mountain, raping them and then chasing them down and killing them. The only similarities are the location, and the fact that the victims all appear to have been chased. The weapons used aren't even the same. The victims were all stabbed, and then shot. No arrows, no…"

"Spiky metal balls?" Bobby suggested wryly when Alex hesitated. She smiled ruefully.

"Yes. Bobby, there's no real organisation to these murders. They were all spur of the moment."

Bobby nodded his agreement.

"There's no… no precision or planning in this, not in the way that Mathers planned out what he'd do with each of his victims… like the way he planned what he'd do with us. Salinger would have read the basic reports, he would have known this, and yet he still demanded we come."

"He didn't send us because he thought we could help," Alex said angrily. "He sent us because he wanted to hurt us. He knew damn well that coming back here was the worst thing that could happen to us."

"Okay," Bobby said softly. "We've established that these murders have nothing to do with Erik Mathers. It's no copycat, there's no apparent connection. So let's get stuck into it, get it solved, and get back home."

"And never come back here again," Alex muttered. "Okay, let's do it."

* * *

"You know, as much as I respect Bobby," Bishop said wryly as she and Logan left the morgue, "it's kind of nice to be partnered with someone who doesn't sniff the bodies."

Logan smirked.

"Goren's got a style all his own, I'll say that much."

"That's the understatement of the decade," Bishop retorted. She paused as they passed through the main doors into the sunshine, and drew in a deep breath. "So, what did you think?"

Logan looked at her thoughtfully.

"Of the bodies? I think it's a crock that we're even here. It should have been strictly SVU handling this, and no one else. Salinger's full of bullshit."

"I think we all know that," Bishop said wearily. "But since we're here…"

"C'mon, Bishop, there're no similarities at all between the injuries on those bodies in there, and the injuries on the bodies of Erik Mathers' victims. Not one of those women was pierced with an arrow. And I damn well ought to know, I had one of his fucking arrows through my arm. Remember?"

She didn't flinch away from him.

"I remember, Mike. Don't take it out on me. None of us really want to be here, but you're the one who jumped up and volunteered us. _Remember_?"

He sighed faintly.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Just remember why we're here. And right now they're sitting in a room in the local police headquarters, reading reports."

"I know," Logan muttered again. He looked back at Bishop as they began the walk back to the precinct. "What happened this morning, anyway? I thought you and Benson were going to keep an eye on Eames."

Bishop reddened noticeably.

"She never made a sound. Olivia and I just didn't wake up. Apparently Alex lay awake in bed for a few hours, and then she got up, got dressed and sat outside our room for the rest of the night."

A frown crossed Logan's face.

"She wasn't there when I went out to get some fresh air about six. Wonder where she went…"

"Not far, I'd imagine," Bishop mused. Logan shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. She seemed okay this morning at breakfast. A little tired, maybe, but otherwise okay."

"There's Benson and Stabler," Logan said suddenly, and Bishop looked around just as the two SVU detectives joined them. "Where have you two been?" he asked.

"Just seeing to some business," Olivia said calmly. "Lyn, could I have a word with you? Privately?"

Logan looked on in surprise as the two women fell back away from the men, and began to speak in low whispers once they were out of immediate hearing range.

"What's that all about?" he asked Elliot, puzzled. Elliot shrugged unconcernedly.

"You know, secret women's business, and all that shit. Liv's been so crabby this morning, I wouldn't be surprised if she's got her period."

Logan nearly choked.

"You better not let her hear you say that, pal. With all the sexual harassment bullshit going on at the moment…"

Elliot grinned.

"It's okay. Liv and I have an agreement. I can tease her about her monthlies, as long as she doesn't have it at the time, and she can harass me about wet dreams."

Logan shook his head in disbelief.

"Can we move on, please? Too much information."

Elliot barely concealed his smug grin. Diversion accomplished. Damn, he was good.

"What did you get from your morgue visit?"

"Not a lot. All I can tell you is that none of those victims died in even remotely the same way as Erik Mathers' victims. That is, the ones that _didn't_ make it. Mathers dispatched his victims with a crossbow every time. Those women were all stabbed, and then shot dead. This isn't a copycat. It's just some sick fuck who happens to be operating in the same area that Mathers did. Except, this whack job isn't going all the way to New York for his prey. He's plucking them right out of this town."

"So we start retracing the steps of all the victims, and seeing where their paths crossed. Let's get back to the headquarters, and see whether Goren and Eames have come up with anything out of those reports. Then we can start looking into each of the victims, and start doing the hard yards."

"Where's Fin and Munch?"

"Last we checked, at the local bar, talking to the locals, seeing who knew the women. Apparently, one of them worked behind the bar."

"Great," Logan muttered sourly. "They get the bar assignment. We got to look at dead bodies."

Elliot grinned, paying no heed to Logan's griping. He looked back just as Olivia and Bishop rejoined them.

"We're going to head back to the precinct and see what Goren and Eames have. Then we might go and find Fin and Munch at the local bar. We can have lunch there while we're at it. After that, we can start retracing the victims' last steps."

Olivia nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

Logan and Bishop walked on, and Elliot and Olivia fell in step behind them. Without saying a word, Elliot threw a sideways questioning look at his partner, to which Olivia replied with a single, firm nod. A relieved smile filtered onto Elliot's face, and he kept walking in silence.

* * *

_tbc..._


	9. Once More Into the Breach

_A/N_: This chapter was going to be longer, but then it would have taken more time to finish than I liked, plus it seemed to work better divided into two parts.  
Sorry this has been so long in coming, but my muse finally decide to clue me in as to what is going to happen.

* * *

"That better not be beer, Munch," Elliot said in a lightly threatening tone as they joined Fin and Munch in the local bar.

"Root beer," Munch said unconcernedly before quickly emptying his glass. "Just think of it as root beer, Elliot."

Elliot smirked as they sat down around the table.

"Don't push your luck, pal. The next one had better be root beer for real, or Cragen will be so far up your ass when we get home…"

"Yeah, yeah," Munch grumbled.

The eight detectives put in their orders for lunch, and then Olivia looked around at the group questioningly.

"We might as well go over what we have so far. Who wants to start? Bobby? Alex?"

"Well, just to state the obvious," Alex said dryly, "this is no copycat. It's just some sadistic mutt who happens be operating in the same vicinity as… you know."

"The way he treats his victims suggests he might have taken a few tips from the Erik Mathers killings, but he's operating on his own," Bobby added quietly. "What we do have on our hands is a serial sexual predator. He likes what he does, and he's not going to stop. He's working it down to an art form… He seems to pick his victims at random… I haven't been able to find a pattern yet, but one will be there, somewhere. What we can say is that our killer is probably in his mid-thirties to forties… white male…"

"And has an unusual relationship with his mother," Munch interrupted sardonically.

"Can't keep your mouth shut, can you?" Fin snapped. Bobby, however, was grinning.

"As a matter of fact, Munch is probably right."

"Great," Logan said wryly as he took a big mouthful of coffee. "We're looking for a thirty to forty year old Momma's boy with sociopathic tendencies. You realise that could probably be an accurate description for more than half the men in this town?"

"Oh, I'd love to hear you say that in front of Brenner," Alex said with a smirk. Logan rolled his eyes.

"Sure, and while I'm at it, I'll just shoot myself in the head. You know what I mean, Eames."

"I think we'll find, when we get this guy," Bobby put in thoughtfully, "that he's not a local… At least, not in the true sense of the word. Men who commit serial crimes like this tend to operate away from their hometown."

"Mathers didn't," Bishop pointed out. "He came from this area, and he used it to… do what he did."

Bobby shook his head.

"Not to start with. He started his killing spree in Miami, and when he moved back here, he never actually killed anyone from this town."

Alex nodded. "He travelled to New York to find his victims."

"Exactly," Bobby confirmed. "All these current victims _are_ from this town, and the surrounding region. It would suggest the killer has contempt for the women here… And the positions they were found in… naked… exposed… say that he wanted to humiliate them. He didn't come from here… Even if he's lived here a long time, he doesn't actually come from this area."

Elliot nodded in appreciation of Bobby's profiling skills, especially given their current circumstances.

"Logan, Bishop, you wanna share?"

Logan shrugged.

"Again, evidence says this isn't a copycat case. That idiot Salinger just put that spin on it. All the victims were stabbed… I suspect, prior to being raped… and then shot dead."

"You keep saying it's definitely not a copycat," Fin said with a frown, "but weren't all of the victims released and then chased?"

Bishop nodded.

"Yes, but it's more of a quick thrill for this guy. None of the bodies of the women showed the effects of a prolonged period out in the elements. They _were_ chased…"

"But they weren't hunted like… like…" Bobby faltered, the words catching in his throat. Alex looked at him sympathetically, then quietly spoke the words that he was trying so hard not to choke on.

"They weren't hunted down like we were. This son of a bitch probably never actually let the women out of his sight."

Elliot looked across at Fin and Munch.

"Guys? You turn up anything interesting?"

"The most recent victim was a barmaid here," Fin said. "Michelle Whyte. She was married, with a young daughter. Some of the locals seemed to think she was having an affair with someone, but no one seems to know who the lucky guy was."

"If we can find that out," Olivia mused, "then it might give us a starting point."

"We need to start asking around," Elliot said. "Find out whether the other victims were seeing anyone… and whether or not it might be the same guy." He glanced up as the waitress arrived with their orders. "But right now, lunch. We'll get stuck into it this afternoon."

* * *

"Where, exactly, are we going?" Alex asked, frowning slightly as Olivia drove her and Bobby to an as yet unknown destination.

"Just to get a little issue sorted out," Olivia answered calmly.

Bobby and Alex exchanged bemused looks, each one as baffled as the other. After lunch was over, Elliot had sent Logan and Bishop, and Munch and Fin respectively to separate ends of town to start questioning townsfolk. Elliot himself had headed back to the police headquarters, leaving Olivia to carry out this particular task whilst the other detectives were otherwise occupied.

"Someone forget something at the motel?" Alex asked dryly as the car turned into the motel driveway. Olivia smiled as she guided the vehicle around to the opposite side of the motel to where their rooms actually were.

"Not exactly." She twisted around in her seat so that she could look at the both of them, and held up a motel room key. "This is the key for your new room. Room Four, just over there. Elliot and I took the liberty of shifting your things already. Fin and Bishop both know about it, but we decided not to enlighten Logan or Munch just yet."

The silence that met the statement was profound.

"You… you and Elliot… you didn't…" Bobby stammered finally. Olivia smiled.

"What, pay for it ourselves? No, but we would have if we'd needed to. We talked to Gus Brenner on the quiet, and he organised the room, courtesy of the town, and the local PD. He was more than happy to oblige… although, he apologised profusely – the room is on the wrong side of the motel for a view of the mountain."

Bobby chuckled softly.

"Not our biggest concern."

"No, I told him it wouldn't be," Olivia agreed. Alex frowned a little with increasing suspicious.

"Just what did you tell him, exactly?"

Olivia smirked openly, then.

"You don't have to worry about that… suffice to say that he was very understanding, and thinks the NYPD frat regs are a total waste of time and effort."

It was all Olivia could do not to laugh aloud at the bright shade of red that both their faces turned.

"Thanks," Alex said finally, and Bobby nodded in wordless agreement.

"You can thank us by getting a decent night's sleep tonight," Olivia told them, her voice taking on a stern edge. You won't be any good to us if you're both exhausted beyond comprehension."

"We will," Bobby promised as Alex accepted the room key from Olivia, and slipped it away within her coat. "We promise."

* * *

"You know, you have a bad habit of making promises that you can't be positive of being able to keep."

Bobby looked up at Alex, puzzled.

They were back at the local police headquarters after being clued in to their new accommodation by Olivia. Going with Bobby's theory that the killer was an outsider, they were now going through the records of all the men who lived in and around the town.

As claustrophobic as the little room felt to them, it was still a marked improvement on having to traipse around the town on foot, in constant sight of that damned mountain. Given their anxieties, and Bobby's inability to walk lengthy distances, it was a fairly safe bet for all concerned just where Bobby and Alex preferred to be.

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked.

"That promise you made to Olivia, about us getting a good night's sleep."

"Well… Why wouldn't we?"

Alex rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. For such a smart guy, he could really be incredibly dense.

"Think about where we are, Bobby. Is having a room together really going to make any difference?"

He smiled gently at her, then, finally understanding her concerns.

"Alex, think back to that night, in Mathers' cabin."

"I'd rather not," she muttered. Bobby ignored the comment.

"We both slept then, even though we were both just about frightened out of our minds. And this morning, too, we were okay. Why were we okay?"

She stared at him, helpless to give an answer. Eventually, he answered for her.

"We were okay because we were together. We felt safe. That's all we need, isn't it?"

She sighed, and pushed her hair back behind her ears in irritation.

"My Bobby, the eternal optimist. Who'd have thought?"

He regarded her with an amused grin.

"_Your_ Bobby? You have ownership rights, now?"

She glowered at him, her cheeks heating up.

"Don't make me start throwing paperclips at you."

"Hey, as long as it's not elastic bands…"

"Watch it, bud. Don't tempt me. I'm tired, and I have not had anywhere near my quota of caffeine for the day."

Bobby grinned at her. She felt her resistance crumbling, and finally gave up and returned his grin.

"Found anything yet?" she asked, deciding it was time to change the subject.

"A few possibilities worth looking at," he answered. "One in particular…"

He handed a file to her across the table, and she looked down at it thoughtfully.

"Tobias Page… Thirty-seven years old… moved to the town twenty-three years ago, at the age of fourteen." She looked back up at Bobby, a fresh grin lighting up her features. "I wonder what his old teachers have to say about him."

* * *

"Toby?" former principal Marcus Brady mused an hour later when Bobby and Alex met up with him in the local bar. "Yes, I know Toby. A quiet, sullen boy who became an equally sullen man. He was never the social type, not in high school, and not later on, either."

"What was he like in school?" Alex asked. "Was he ever in any trouble?"

"No, Toby was never in any trouble… at least, not with his teachers."

"You're saying he was bullied?" Bobby asked, and Brady laughed.

"That boy got the crap beaten out of him on a regular basis by the boys, and I think he was systematically humiliated by every girl in his age group. He wasn't a happy boy."

Bobby and Alex glanced at each other, each thinking the same thing. It was seriously starting to sound like they had a prime suspect, but at the same time they shared an equal level of repugnance for Brady's amusement at another's abysmal treatment.

"Have you had much contact with him recently?" Alex asked crisply, her professional tone not betraying the disgust she felt for Brady.

"No, hardly ever see him," Brady answered dismissively. "He lives on the outskirts of town… lives on his own, a bit of a recluse, you know."

Again, Bobby and Alex exchanged glances. Recluse… _That_ sounded familiar.

"What did you mean, precisely, when you said systematically humiliated by the girls in his age level?" Bobby asked.

"It was just harmless teasing," Brady said dismissively. "The girls were just trying to bring Toby out of his shell. Unfortunately, I don't think that boy was born with a sense of humour, and he never understood it was all meant to be harmless fun."

Neither detective spoke, but rather stared intently at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He finally did so, cringing under the intensity of their combined stare.

"I recall one time the girls set him up for a so-called blind date for Prom Night. The girl who drew the short straw to be his date lured him into an empty store room in the gym, where the Prom was held, got him undressed down to his boxers, then threw his clothes out the window to her friends. Toby would have stayed hidden in there all night, except the girls clued the boys in to what they'd done, and Toby was literally dragged out screaming for everyone to laugh at."

"And you think that was harmless?" Alex asked incredulously. Brady shrugged.

"He wasn't physically harmed in any way. The students were a little bit rowdy about it, but they were just having a little bit of fun."

"And what about Toby?" Bobby asked. "Did he retaliate in any way?"

At that, Brady's face darkened considerably.

"He showed up at school the next day, and confronted the girl that went to the Prom with him. He demanded an apology in front of everyone, and when she refused, he punched her in the face. He had a knife on him, and he knocked her to the ground… Luckily a couple of the boys pulled him off her, otherwise I'm sure Toby would have stabbed her. He certainly tried hard enough."

"Who was the girl?" Bobby asked, opening his notebook to write it down. "We'd like to talk to her."

Brady stared at Bobby, suddenly uneasy.

"Claire Howard, but I'm afraid talking to her is out of the question, Detective. Claire was the first woman to be killed."

* * *

"Tobias Page, huh?" Elliot mused when Bobby handed him the file back at police headquarters a little while later. "He doesn't have a record, does he?"

"Not even a parking ticket," Alex said dryly. "But he fits the bill…"

"And no one has actually seen him since before the killings started…" Bobby added.

"But his car has been sighted regularly around town over the last couple of months," Alex finished off. Elliot looked bemusedly from one to the other.

"Do you guys even realise that you do that? Finish off each other's sentences like that?"

"Not really," Bobby said. "It's…"

"Instinctive, not practised," Alex finished off with a small smirk. "We're not consciously aware of doing it."

Elliot grunted as he returned his attention to the file in his hands.

"Suspects must absolutely love you two in the interrogation room."

Bobby and Alex said nothing, exchanging amused smiles.

"Well," Elliot said finally, "it's worth checking out. So, how about it? You two care to take a ride out to say hello to Mr Page?"

Bobby grinned and stood up, as did Alex.

Count us in," he said enthusiastically.

* * *

_11th Floor,  
__One Police Plaza_

In the end, Deakins could do nothing but wait for Oliver King to deliver back to him the information he was waiting for. Truth was, he didn't even know what he was waiting for, or what he was expecting to find. All he knew was that something wasn't sitting right with him. Everything about this situation was starting to seem unnatural to Deakins, from Salinger's determination that Bobby and Alex return to Gore Mountain, to his sudden absence from duty.

He supposed the man's father may have died suddenly, but he just couldn't help but be suspicious. When it was the welfare of Bobby Goren and Alex Eames that was the central issue, Deakins found himself to be suspicious of just about everything. He didn't like it, but that was just the way things were.

His phone rang. Frowning at the unwelcome interruption to his thought process, he answered the call with reluctance.

"Deakins. …What? Really? …Thankyou, thankyou very much."

He hung up and pushed himself carefully out of his chair. He'd just made it to the door of his office, leaning heavily on his cane, when a very welcome figure appeared, striding through the Major Case bullpen.

"Commissioner," Deakins greeted Adkins enthusiastically. "You're back early!"

Adkins chuckled and nodded, motioning for Deakins to return to his chair.

"I know. That conference was the most boring pile of manure I've had to deal with for a long time. A week and a half in, I'd had enough and decided it was time to blow the whole damn thing off. Now, I get back to rumours that that little prick Salinger has been making life difficult for you and your people. Is that true, Jim?"

Deakins' smiled faded rapidly, and Adkins sighed.

"I take it that's a yes. I'm sorry, Jim. If I'd had any option other than to leave him in charge, I would have taken it. But believe me, he's going to get my foot right up his ass now if he doesn't leave you all alone to do your jobs."

"Commissioner," Deakins said quietly, "you have no idea just how difficult he's made things. A couple of days ago, he showed up here and told me he was assigning Goren and Eames to a joint task force with detectives from SVU to investigate multiple killings."

Adkins nodded.

"Well, that doesn't sound too big an issue."

"It isn't the what. It's the where. The killings all happened in Wolf River, at the bottom of Gore Mountain."

Adkins suddenly went very quiet.

"Gore Mountain. As in, the same place where Erik Mathers…"

"Yes, the same," Deakins confirmed grimly. Adkins sucked in a long, hissing breath.

"Okay… Please, tell me he gave them a choice."

Deakins shook his head slowly.

"He told them they either went, or he'd fire them on the spot. And he told me that when they came back, I was to split them up permanently."

"That son of a bitch!" Adkins exploded, and several detectives working close to Deakins' office all looked around in surprise at the verbal explosion. "He doesn't have the authority to do that, and he damn well knows it! Where are they, Jim? Where are Goren and Eames?"

"They're already in Wolf River, sir. They arrived there late yesterday."

"Goddamn it… All right, I'm going straight to Salinger's office and set him straight over this, and then we're getting your detectives back here."

"He's not there, Commissioner."

Adkins stared at Deakins, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I tried to reach Salinger this morning. I was told he'd taken leave of absence to attend his father's funeral."

"His… _father's funeral_? You were told his father had died?"

"What is it?" Deakins asked, his heart suddenly in his throat. Adkins was on his feet again, visibly agitated.

"Jim, Gary Salinger's father died when he was fourteen. Can I use your phone?"

Deakins nodded, even as Adkins snatched up the handpiece and punched a memorised number into the keypad.

"…Kate, it's Gerry. I need you to charter a flight for me as fast as possible, to Saratoga, and then arrange for a car to get me from the airport to a little town called Wolf River. I want to leave as soon as possible."

"I'm coming with you," Deakins said abruptly. Adkins glanced at him grimly.

"Hang on, Kate. Jim, I don't think that's a good idea."

"They're my detectives, Commissioner…"

"I'm aware of that, Jim, but if this gets dangerous, I don't want you getting hurt, or killed."

"They're my detectives," Deakins repeated softly. Adkins stared at him for several long seconds before sighing and speaking back into the phone.

"Kate, book for two people. Captain Jim Deakins from Major Case will be coming with me."

He hung up, then looked back at Deakins.

"I suggest you get on the phone, Jim, and call Goren and Eames. Warn them that there could be trouble headed their way."

Fighting off a powerful urge to panic, Deakins picked up the phone to make the call. It rang seemingly endlessly before finally cancelling out and going to voicemail. He looked up at Adkins, genuinely worried.

"No answer. Something's wrong."

"C'mon, Jim," Adkins said quietly. "I'll take you home so you can pack a bag, and then we'll head to my place. We'll get to the bottom of this, and when we do, Salinger's going to regret the day he ever decided to become a cop."

* * *

_tbc_... 


	10. Breakthrough

"Somehow, I expected something a bit more dingy," Alex commented as Brenner drove them down the driveway to Tobias Page's home.

"Something out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" Bobby suggested with a smirk, only to yelp a moment later when Alex smacked him across the shoulder.

"Not funny," she snapped, drawing a sheepish look of apology from her partner. Brenner glanced at them in the rear view mirror as he pulled the SUV up outside a small, neatly-kept cottage.

"Something the rest of us ought to know about?" he inquired, and Bobby shook his head, a rueful smile on his face.

"No… Just an old joke," he said.

"Didn't seem like it," Brenner muttered as they climbed out of the vehicle. "We might be an out of the way backwater, but we're not _that_ much of a backwater."

"Sorry," Bobby muttered. "I didn't mean this place. This just reminded me of a less than pleasant experience Detective Eames and I had not that long ago."

Brenner nodded, placated.

"Apology accepted. We believe we've got a great little town here, Detective Goren. Yes, it's true that some pretty awful things have happened here in recent times, but I don't believe we should all be marked for life over it." He paused, and motioned up at the mountain. "It's really not as bad up there as you probably think, and maybe when we wrap this up, you folks might be willing to take a trip up there and see for yourselves."

"We'll take that under advisement," Elliot said quickly, noting out of the corner of his eye the shade of pale that both Bobby and Alex had gone at the mere suggestion of going up the mountain.

Brenner paused, eyeing Bobby and Alex strangely before shaking his head and leading the way up to the front door of Tobias Page's home.

He knocked three times before the door finally opened to reveal a man with thick, black hair and equally black eyes. His face seemed prematurely aged, and he peered out at the visitors with open suspicion.

"Gus," Page mumbled, his gaze flitting nervously to Bobby, Alex and Elliot. Brenner nodded in greeting.

"Afternoon, Toby. Can we come in? We'd like to have a little chat."

Page stood still for a moment, then stepped carefully outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

"We can talk out here. Who are they?"

"Detectives from New York. They came to help us catch whoever killed those six women."

Page looked indifferent, at the very least.

"Yeah. Shame about that."

"You don't seem too broken up about it," Elliot commented. Page regarded him with a sullen gaze.

"So? So what if I don't think those bitches are any great loss? I'm entitled to my own opinion. We still had free speech, last I checked."

"You had a pretty big grudge against one of them, didn't you?" Bobby asked, peering at Page with deep interest. Page was able to hold his gaze for only a few seconds before he had to look away.

"Claire, you mean. Yeah, I didn't like her. She was a fucking cow. Whoever killed her did this town a favour, I say."

"Watch it, Toby," Brenner growled warningly. Page snorted derisively.

"Why? You must think I'm a suspect. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. Why should I lie about how I feel about those dumb bitches?"

"You had a beef with all of them?" Alex asked, and suddenly found herself feeling the full force of Page's hostility.

"All women are bitches," he said heatedly. "_All_ of them. They deserve everything they fucking get."

"You know, Toby," Brenner said dryly, "you're not doing a hell of a lot to convince us you didn't have anything to do with these killings."

Page looked at him sullenly.

"I know you cops. You've already made up your mind. I didn't do it, but you don't care about that, as long as you've got someone to pin it on."

"If you didn't do it," Elliot said, "then you won't mind us having a look around."

"The hell I wouldn't," Page snapped. "Unless you've got a warrant, then you can get the fuck off my property."

"See, now, that makes us suspicious," Alex said. "If you didn't do it, and you don't have anything to hide, why not let us take a look?"

Page glared at her.

"Fucking bitch cop…"

Abruptly, Bobby shifted into his line of vision, all six foot four inches of him glaring right back at Page.

"I suggest you show a little more respect for my partner, Mr Page. She's a hell of a lot more capable than you probably think she is."

Page took a step away from them, to the door of his home.

"You want to look around my place? Get a warrant."

He disappeared back inside, slamming the door behind him.

"Gee, what a pleasant guy," Alex remarked dryly as they walked back to the SUV. Brenner sighed a little.

"He's had to put up with a lot since he moved here with his mom when he was a kid. It's turned him into a pretty bitter man."

"A bitter man who has a real hatred of women," Elliot added. "And a nice violent streak to top it off, I'll wager."

"Toby has never committed a single act of violence in the time he's lived in this town," Brenner growled. "I'm sorry, Detectives. He might seem like a prime candidate to you, but I think you have the wrong person."

"We'll see," Bobby murmured as he suddenly veered away from the SUV and headed across the grass to a vehicle that sat nearby.

"What are you doing?" Brenner asked, frowning.

"Is this his van?" Bobby asked as he walked around to the rear.

"Yes, but _what_ are you doing? We don't have a search warrant…"

"We don't need one," Bobby replied. "Come and look at this."

The four crossed the grass to join Bobby at the rear of the van. Alex and Elliot's faces lit up with grins, while Brenner still looked confused.

"Bitter, _and_ stupid," Elliot commented with a chuckle. "I like that combination."

The back of Page's van was wide open, and the carpeting from within had been dragged out to lie on the grass. On that piece of carpeting were multiple blood stains, as well as visible hair samples. Inside the van itself, in plain sight, were varying lengths of rope and at least three knives, all of which were smeared thickly with blood.

"A perp that doesn't clean up after himself," Alex said with a smirk. "Gee, if only they made it this easy for us back home."

"We still need a search warrant, though, don't we?" Brenner asked with a frown.

"We need a warrant to cover the van if we want the ropes and the knives to be admissible," Bobby answered. "But this piece of carpet is a freebie. It's out in the open, and in full view. But if you'd care to contact your local judge to get the warrant…?"

Brenner nodded grimly and pulled out his cell phone.

"Okay, consider it done."

He never had the chance to make the call. Seconds after he'd spoken, the sound of gunshots forced them all to duck for cover around the far side of the van.

"Okay," Brenner gasped, "_now_ I'm convinced."

"It's coming from the house," Elliot confirmed, peering carefully around the edge of the van. A moment later… "Jesus!" he yelled, ducking back barely in time to avoid a bullet that shattered the van's headlight.

"Toby!" Brenner bellowed. "What the fuck are you doing? You wanna get yourself killed, you stupid fool?"

"Get the fuck off my property!" a voice screamed at them from within the house.

"Can I use one of your cell phones?" Brenner asked his companions. "Dropped mine over there when the asshole started shooting at us."

Bobby pulled out his phone and handed it to Brenner. At the same time that he was dialling out, Alex's phone started ringing.

"Damn," she hissed, pulling it out to look at the caller ID. A moment later, she looked over at Bobby, incredulous. "It's Deakins!"

"Damn, the man has some incredible timing," Elliot growled. "Tell him we're busy, and you'll call him back later."

Alex threw Elliot an exasperated look, then shoved the cell back into her pocket without answering it.

"Okay, we've got back-up coming," Brenner told them as he ended his call and handed Bobby's phone back to him. "Just hang on, everyone."

There was a pause in the shooting, and the four cops exchanged looks, each wondering whether Page had perhaps come to his senses, or maybe even run out of ammunition. Their silent questions were answered a moment later when the shooting began afresh, shattering the windows of the van and spraying them all with glass.

"Fuck!" Brenner yelled.

"He's shooting up the evidence!" Elliot shouted. "Son of a bitch! We gotta do something!"

"You wanna play target practise with him?" Alex retorted. "Be our guest, Elliot."

"We've gotta do something!" Elliot repeated insistently. "If he hits the gas tank on this thing, he'll blow the van up, and us with it!"

"Hell, he's right about that," Brenner admitted, pale-faced. Elliot looked at Brenner intently.

"Do you know the layout of this place?"

Brenner gaped at him.

"You're not seriously going make a run for it?"

Elliot glared at him.

"Do you, or don't you?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Where's he most likely shooting from?"

"The study, I'd guess. When you come in the back entrance, there's a hallway that leads straight down to the front door. The study is the last room on the left, but…"

Elliot looked back to Bobby and Alex.

"Cover me?"

"You're out of your mind, Elliot," Alex said hoarsely, even as she released the safety catch on her gun.

"Someone has to do something," he growled.

"We'll cover you," Bobby assured him. "Just be careful. You don't have a vest on."

Elliot grimaced.

"Don't remind me. And don't tell 'Liv about this, either. She'll kill me."

Bobby and Alex exchanged brief looks of amusement and then, moving together, they stepped out into the open, and opened fire on the building.

Elliot took off as fast as he could, sprinting across the grass and praying that he wouldn't slip, and go sprawling onto his face. He rounded the corner and vaulted over the small gate there without losing his momentum, although he very nearly did fall on his face as his pants leg snared on a loose bit of wire. He heard the ripping sound of material tearing, but didn't stop to assess the damage to his attire.

Staying low, he ran down the length of the house and around to the back, acutely conscious that all gunfire had ceased. He sincerely hoped that meant another stalemate. The last thing he wanted was to come to the backdoor of the house to find Page waiting for him there with a loaded gun.

Coming within sight of the backdoor, he hesitated, checking that his gun did, indeed, have a full clip in it. As he was checking, the sound of a police siren reached his ears, followed rapidly by further shooting from within the house.

That was good, Elliot told himself breathlessly. That meant Page was still up the front of the house.

He moved up to the backdoor and tried the handle. To his great relief, the door opened easily.

Moving as fast as he dared, Elliot made his way up the hall, doing a cursory check of each room just to play it safe. Treading as silently as he could, Elliot moved down to the last room on the left, as per Brenner's instructions. A careful look inside revealed Page standing by the window, rifle up and braced by his left shoulder as he fired randomly out at the van.

For several seconds, Elliot didn't move as he weighed up his options. If he were to speak now, from this vantage point, there was nothing to stop Page from swinging that rifle around and shooting at _him_. And though he was fairly sure his reflexes were good enough to take out Page before he was shot, firstly they wanted Page alive and in a condition that they could question him in. Secondly, 'pretty sure' simply wasn't good enough. He wanted to be a hundred and _fifty_ percent sure before he took a risk that could potentially put a bullet in his chest.

So that left one option, and he could only pray that Page was so occupied with his targets outside that he didn't notice what was right behind him.

Gun aimed at Page in a rock steady grip, Elliot walked across the floor – _carpet, thank God, and not wood_ – edging closer and closer to his target. He was almost within arm's length when a floorboard beneath the carpet creaked under his feet, and Page spun around, eyes wide with panic and anger.

Elliot saw the gun coming around, and reacted on pure instinct, shoving logical thought clean out the window. Lunging forward, he grabbed the barrel of the rifle and yanked it right out of Page's grasp. Abandoning the rifle to the floor, Elliot used the energy of adrenalin flowing through him and spun Page around, slamming him into the wall and slipping a pair of handcuffs on him in what had to be some sort of record time.

"_Clear!_" he bellowed out the window, even as he pushed Page to the floor, and planted his foot squarely on Page's back to keep him from moving.

A minute later, the front door exploded open and Brenner ran in with two of his deputies, and Fin and Logan close behind.

"Well done, Detective Stabler," Brenner praised him as they hauled Page to his feet. Elliot couldn't quite bring himself to speak. Instead, he looked at his fellow detectives, pale-faced and covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the ballsy stunt he had just managed to pull off.

"Olivia is gonna ring your neck, Elliot," Fin growled when Brenner and his men had taken Page out.

"Yeah," Elliot muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead and leaving a gritty mark there. "Tell me about it."

"C'mon, man," Fin said with a chuckle, and ushered his friend out of the house.

* * *

"You two okay?" Elliot asked as he emerged from the house to find Bobby and Alex waiting on the grass, guns still in their hands. Alex eyed him critically.

"We're fine. Not so sure about you, though."

Elliot looked down at himself, puzzled, and realised what she meant a moment later. His right pants leg was shredded, and rapidly soaking with blood. Before he had a chance to take stock, though, Olivia arrived with Bishop, looking less than impressed with her partner's antics.

"Elliot!"

"Oh, brother," Elliot muttered. She strode over, but her tirade was halted before she could begin it when she saw his leg.

"You've been shot?"

"Nah," he answered quickly. "I must have done it going over the gate around the side of the house… Ah, shit…"

He'd just discovered his right hand was torn up as well.

"That's going to need stitches," Brenner announced firmly as he came back to the group. "Probably a tetanus shot, too, I'll wager. I can take you to the local clinic. Dr Clark will be there, he'll be happy to fix that up for you."

None of them missed the interesting shade of pale that the detective went at the suggestion of needles, but any protests he'd planned on making were lost when Olivia shot him an evil look.

"He'll go with you, Lieutenant. Won't you, Elliot?"

Logan clapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, Elliot. I'm sure Munch will be happy to go with you and hold your hand."

Elliot gave Logan a sour look, and limped away to Brenner's car without a word.

"I'd better go with him," Olivia said ruefully as she watched his retreating figure.

"Don't be too hard on him, Olivia," Bobby told her, a small, amused smile on his face. "He took down Page without anyone getting shot."

"He might wish he had been when he realises he can't claim a new pair of pants for trying to pole vault a wire fence," she retorted as she headed after her partner.

* * *

A thorough search of the property of the property revealed more than any of them could have possibly hoped for. In addition to the evidence found in and around Toby Page's van, a shed out the back of the property revealed a collection of knives that would have put Jack the Ripper to shame. Though most of the blades were in immaculate condition, there were a select few that were covered in blood.

A further search within the house itself revealed a small room not dissimilar to the one in Erik Mathers' cabin at the top of the mountain, and in David Graham's house in Denton. It was a small, concrete room with only one small window high up, too high for anyone to reach, and blood spattered over the walls and floor.

"This is where he kept them," Logan said grimly as they looked around. "Where he kept the women he killed. Just like Mathers…"

He trailed off, glancing uneasily at Bobby and Alex, but neither seemed concerned with the comment. In fact, Logan mused, as he watched Bobby looking around the room with a familiar enthusiasm, they were both behaving as though their own traumas didn't exist. Maybe, he thought, it was because the end suddenly looked to be in sight, and it didn't appear that they were going to have to go up the goddamn mountain after all…

"As soon as CSU analyses all this blood, we'll have enough evidence to bury Page, and he won't need to say a word," Alex said, and Logan couldn't help but notice the change in her tone, from hard and grim to light and… dare he think it? Almost relaxed and cheerful.

"I have to say it," he said suddenly, and Bobby and Alex both ceased what they were doing to look at him.

"You have to say what?" Alex asked, watching him suspiciously. Logan held up his hands defensively.

"Don't bite my head off, I don't mean any disrespect… But this has got to be the fastest solve in history. I mean, I've never known a serial murder case like this to be cracked so damn fast! We only got here yesterday afternoon! It hasn't even been twenty-four hours!"

Bobby and Alex exchanged glances.

"We'll count our blessings when we're in the van on our way back home, thanks very much," Alex said wryly, and Bobby grunted in agreement before continuing with his examination of the room.

Logan smiled and shook his head, heading out of the room to leave them to it. He wasn't going to say that everything was fine, that they'd be heading home again soon enough. He wasn't superstitious, but he didn't care to risk jinxing them, either.

Alex watched him go out of the corner of her eye, then spoke quietly to Bobby.

"What do you think?"

Bobby took a step back from the wall he'd been looking at. He knew what she meant without having to ask.

"This isn't like Denton. We've got him, Alex. I really believe that. There's no accomplice here. It's just one very bitter, angry man with a very big grudge."

She sighed softly.

"I just can't help feeling like we're about to get thrown a curve ball."

"Just bad memories," he murmured, walking over and pulling her to him in a protective embrace. "It's okay, I feel the same way, but it's going to be all right. We'll be heading home before we know it."

"And we can shove it Salinger's face?"

"Definitely."

"Good," she said flippantly and, extricating herself gently from his arms, she strode out of the room. Bobby watched her go with an affectionate grin, and turned his attention back to the evidence at hand.

* * *

_tbc...  
**A/N: Yes, I know this was a short one, but I am soooo not done yet...**_


	11. And then came the curve ball

A/N: Again, just a short chapter, but I guess I'd rather get a short something up on a regular basis, than go for prolonged periods with nothing at all. Please be patient with me, though. I'm hoping the excitement level is about to get cranked up big time.

Also, thanks so much to everyone reading and reviewing this story. It does help to know there are people reading it _and_ enjoying it.

* * *

_New York_

Deakins emerged into the family room of his home to find Adkins on his cell phone, his brow creased in worry. Dropping his bag, Deakins approached slowly, his stomach knotting painfully. Surely something else hadn't gone wrong…?

"What is it?" he asked.

"There's a storm coming in fast upstate," Adkins told him. "We may not be able to fly up there tonight. Hang on… Yes, what's the news? …Goddamn it. There's no other way to get there quickly? …All right, Kate. Book that for us, but if anything changes, you let me know immediately."

He ended the call, then looked around at Deakins, his expression grim.

"All flights to Saratoga tonight have been cancelled. We're not going to be able to get up there before tomorrow morning, at the earliest."

Deakins stood stiffly, his stressed mind contemplating all that could happen in one night. He recalled another night that didn't seem all that long ago, when all he had been able to do was sit around on his ass reading maps and case files, all the while knowing two of his friends and colleagues were out there in the dark, and in the cold, fighting for their very lives. He honestly did not know whether he could cope with another night like that one.

"We have to get up there somehow," he said in a soft, tense voice. "We have to get up there tonight, Commissioner."

"I know you're worried, Jim. So am I, but short of driving there, I don't know what we can do. Look… try calling your people again."

Deakins nodded and pulled out his cell phone, hitting speed dial for Alex's phone.

* * *

_Wolf River_

Alex frowned at the sound of her cell phone ringing as she and Bobby made their way wearily into their new room.

They, along with Olivia and Elliot, had opted to return to the motel to freshen up a little before meeting the others at the local bar for dinner. Logan and Bishop had stayed behind to interrogate Page with Lieutenant Brenner, while Munch and Fin helped supervise the collection of evidence at the Page property.

Bobby had been visibly disappointed at not having the opportunity to interrogate Page himself but, as Brenner had pointed out back at the station, Page was ready to spill his guts anyway.

As Logan had said, it was the fastest solve they'd ever done and, despite his reassurances to Alex, Bobby was half-bracing himself for that as yet unseen curve ball.

"Who is it?" Bobby asked tiredly as he dropped onto the bed. Alex looked at the caller ID, and then shot Bobby an amused smile.

"It's Deakins. I forgot to call him back. He's probably completely freaked out that we didn't answer him when he called earlier."

"We _were_ in the middle of a shootout," Bobby pointed out.

"Oh yeah," Alex retorted. "I'll be sure to tell him that. I'm sure it'll make him feel a whole lot better. …Hello, sir."

On the other end, she heard an audible sigh of relief, and had to struggle not to laugh as she walked over and sat down beside Bobby, switching to loudspeaker so that he could listen in as well.

"_Where in God's name have you two been?"_ Deakins' voice demanded. The connection crackled badly, and they both had to struggle to understand.

"We were…"

"Busy with a suspect," Bobby put in, and Alex threw him a grateful look before agreeing.

"Yes, busy with a suspect."

"_Great,"_ Deakins growled. _"Knowing you two, that could mean any number of things."_

Alex rolled her eyes comically, and Bobby had to look away in an effort not to laugh. He strongly suspected that, right at that moment, laughter would not have gone down very well at all.

"Sorry, Captain," Alex apologised. "We didn't mean to worry you. Things just got a little hectic here."

"_It's all right, I'm not mad at either of you. I'm just glad to hear that you're all right. You _are_ all right, aren't you?"_

Again, Bobby and Alex exchanged glances.

"Well, we're fine…" Alex said carefully.

"Elliot Stabler needed a dozen stitches in his hand and leg, though," Bobby added. There was momentary silence on the other end of the phone.

"_What happened?"_

"Our suspect didn't want to play nice," Alex answered. "He decided to start shooting at us, and Elliot decided to play hero. He tore up his hand and leg jumping a wire gate down the side of the house we were at."

Another silence.

"_Is Stabler going to be all right?"_

Bobby and Alex exchanged startled looks at the new voice.

"Commissioner Adkins?" Bobby asked tentatively.

"_Yes, Detective Goren,"_ Adkins confirmed. _"I'm back early, and yes, I promise you both that I'm going to hang Salinger out to dry for this latest stunt."_

The two detectives exchanged grins, and then Bobby spoke confidently.

"Elliot's going to be fine, sir. He's more upset about ruining a good pair of pants than needing twelve stitches and a tetanus shot."

There was muffled laughter through the phone, and then Deakins spoke again.

"_Listen up, both of you. There could be trouble heading your way. We think Salinger is on his way to Wolf River."_

Both Bobby and Alex froze, the smiles wiped right off their faces.

"We must be tired," Alex said finally. "I could have sworn you just said Salinger is on his way here."

"_I did say that, Alex. The problem is that we don't know why."_

Bobby sat fully upright.

"Are you trying to say he might have completely lost it?"

"_It's seriously beginning to look that way, Detective,"_ Adkins answered grimly. _"Now, Captain Deakins and I are coming up there. We'll be there as soon as possible, but until we arrive, for God's sake, be careful. If he does turn up, whatever happens, don't allow yourself to be caught alone with him. We have no way of knowing what he might be intending to do, and I would hope he wouldn't be stupid enough to try and harm either of you_..._"_

"But you can't rule it out," Alex concluded.

"_I'm afraid not,"_ Adkins agreed grimly. _"We are coming as fast as we can, but there's a storm coming in up there, and all flights have been cancelled. We aren't likely to get there until some time tomorrow morning, at the earliest."_

"Any suggestions on what we should do if he turns up?" Bobby asked grimly.

"_Try not to say or do anything that might let him know that we're on to him,"_ Deakins answered. _"Just act like you normally would around him."_

Bobby and Alex exchanged amused smiles.

"You mean, act generally insubordinate," Alex put in, and both she and Bobby grinned widely at the sound of choked laughter coming from the phone.

"_Just don't get caught alone with him,"_ Adkins repeated. _"Whatever else happens, don't let that happen."_

"_And tell Stabler and Benson what's going on,"_ Deakins added. _"Please, both of you, be careful. We'll be there as soon as we can."_

The call ended, and the two detectives looked at each other, sickened by what they'd just been told.

"You really think he'd try to hurt us…?"Alex asked softly. Bobby didn't answer, staring back at her grimly. He didn't need to, the look on his face spoke in volumes. She looked away, shaken. "Son of a bitch…"

Bobby slipped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her gently.

"We're together. We'll be fine. C'mon, let's go and tell Elliot and Olivia."

* * *

They emerged just as the two lead SVU detectives rounded the corner, each looking grim. Elliot was limping heavily, but otherwise seemed intact and no worse for wear.

"You two aren't going to believe this," Alex said tersely.

"Someone else is missing," Olivia said abruptly.

That brought Bobby and Alex up short.

"Someone else?" Bobby echoed. "Who? When?"

"Thirteen year old Jane McManus," Elliot answered. "No one's seen her since last night. C'mon, we have to get to the station. Looks like you might get a shot at Page after all, Bobby."

Bobby and Alex followed their colleagues back to the car, the disturbing new twist effectively erasing all thoughts of the phone call from Deakins from their minds.

* * *

"He won't talk," Brenner said in frustration when Elliot, Olivia, Bobby and Alex rejoined them at the station. "Son of a bitch says he never took her, but cheers to the bastard who did."

"Let us in there," Alex said tightly. Logan shook his head.

"It won't do any good, Eames. Page doesn't give a damn whether he's facing life in prison, or the death penalty. We asked him about the McManus girl about ten times, in ten different ways. Every time, he either clammed up, or he just started laughing. I don't think even your psycho-babble would get through to him, Goren."

Bobby smiled grimly.

"Well, I won't know until I try, will I?"

* * *

"You were at my house," Page said tonelessly as Bobby came into the room, and manoeuvred himself carefully into the nearest chair. Damn, his leg was starting to give him hell, he thought distantly. Then, that thought was gone, and all that mattered was the sullen face staring back at him across the table.

"Yeah, that's right," Bobby confirmed. Page grunted.

"I need target practise. Should've been able to hit _you_, at least."

"Is that a confession to attempted murder of a police officer?" Bobby asked calmly as he flipped through his notes. Page laughed softly. The sound left Bobby feeling mildly disturbed, but he was careful to keep his expression neutral.

"You told Detective Logan and Detective Bishop that you didn't touch Jane McManus."

"I didn't. That's not to say I wouldn't have eventually. But she's a bit too young. Girls don't become total bitches until they turn sixteen."

Bobby smiled at him. To those watching on the other side of the mirror, he looked distinctly like a shark circling in toward his prey.

"Sweet sixteen. That's how old you were at your Prom, wasn't it?"

Page didn't move, simply stared back at Bobby.

"Yeah. So?"

"And Claire… She was sixteen, too."

It wasn't a question, and Page made no attempt to answer. Bobby went on after a moment's hesitation, his attention back on his notes.

"Aren't you gonna give me the line about avoiding the death penalty?" Page asked when, after nearly five minutes, Bobby's silent flipping through notes finally began to unsettle him. Bobby looked up at him slowly.

"No. You're looking at that no matter what."

"Then how are you going to convince me to tell you where to find little Jane?"

"You said you didn't take her," Bobby pointed out. Page sneered at him.

"Yeah, I did. But I didn't say that I didn't know where she was."

For an instant, the two men locked stares. Then, to Page's infuriation, Bobby went calmly back to his notes.

"Well?" Page demanded, his voice rising noticeably.

"Well what?" Bobby asked. Page leaned forward against the edge of the desk, enraged by the perceived brush-off he was getting from this out of town upstart cop.

"Aren't you gonna offer me a deal? So I'll talk?"

"You're already talking," Bobby answered, finally closing his notebook and returning his attention to the suspect. "You're just not saying the right things. But you want us to offer you a deal? How about this. You tell us where to find Jane McManus… _before _it's too late to save her life… and we'll put you in a nice, cosy cell in solitary, while you're waiting to be executed, and then you don't have to get ass-fucked every day until you die."

* * *

On the other side of the glass, Brenner looked at the other detectives incredulously.

"Did he just say what I think he said?"

Even Elliot and Olivia were staring at Alex, stunned. Alex just shrugged. She, too, had been poleaxed by her partner's blunt statement. He usually tended to be more subtle than that, but she also trusted his judgement implicitly. She only hoped that he wouldn't infuriate Page to the point of attacking him.

* * *

In the interrogation room, Page had gone very still and very quiet all of a sudden. He stared at Bobby, eyes wide with a mixture of hatred and panic. Bobby returned his stare with a calm gaze.

"Well?" he asked when Page still hadn't moved or spoken minutes later. "What do you think of that deal? Tell us where she is, or we'll find a nice, friendly inmate to share a cell with you, and play daddy for you right up until the day you're executed. And just so you know, with appeals and red tape, you could be waiting for years until they finally getting around to putting that hot shot in your arm."

* * *

"He's crazy," Brenner muttered, one hand going to his gun. "Detective Eames, no offence, but your partner's fucking crazy. Eliza Page moved here with Toby to get him away from his father, because the son of a bitch was sexually abusing him! If he doesn't shut his mouth in there, Toby'll attack him for sure!"

"It's okay," Alex murmured, feeling amazingly calm in the face of the near hysterics from Brenner. "Bobby knows what he's doing. And he knows about the abuse. It's why he used it in the first place. Just trust him, okay?"

Brenner looked unconvinced, but conceded reluctantly.

"I hope you're right, Ma'am. For his sake…"

* * *

Inside the close room, Bobby continued to stare intently at Page, acutely aware of the other man's growing rage, but showing no hint of nervousness.

"Well?" Bobby pressed.

Page's sallow features twisted into an ugly glare and he leaned forward across the table, speaking in a whisper that could not be heard through the speaker system into the observation room.

"You stupid, arrogant fuck. I could break your fucking neck before any of them could get in here to stop me. Sure, they'd probably shoot me dead, but then they'd never find poor little Janey, either. All they'd have left would be a dead suspect, a dead cop, and dead kid… except they'd only have two bodies."

To his credit, Bobby didn't flinch in the face of Page's snarled threat.

"What do you want, Toby?" he asked quietly. Page stared at him for a long moment before dropping back into his seat.

"What do _I_ want? You really want an answer to that?"

"Sure," Bobby answered calmly. "What do _you_ want?"

Page laughed coarsely.

"Well, I'm not stupid enough to say I want to be let go. I know that's not going to happen. What _I_ want, though… I'll write out a list of names, and I want a written apology from every single fucking one of them."

"For what they put you through in school?" Bobby wondered, and Page nodded. His harsh sneer faded and softened.

"Yeah. For everything. And I want it to be sincere. Not some shit that's been dictated to them by you cops."

"And then you'll tell us where to find Jane McManus."

Page looked at Bobby thoughtfully, and then smiled faintly and, for an instant, Bobby caught a glimpse of the innocent boy that this bitter man had once been.

"You know something, Detective, I'm gonna show a bit of faith here. I'm gonna tell you where to find her, and I'll trust that you'll do what I've asked. Can I trust you?"

Bobby nodded.

"You can trust me, Toby. Can I trust you?"

Page smiled again, and this time there was innocent or pleasant about it.

"Oh, for sure. I don't need to lie about this. The truth is beautiful enough. You see… I _know_ _who you are_, Detective Goren. My friend, Erik? He sent me a picture of you and your partner about a week before he grabbed you both. I know all about what he did to you, Detective."

Bobby felt the blood suddenly run ice cold in his veins. He was not liking the sudden turn this conversation had taken. Page laughed softly.

"What's the matter, Detective? Not quite gotten over it yet? Ever thought that all you need to do is face those fears head on? Maybe all you need to do is go back up the mountain again. And guess what? I'm going to help you out there. You and your partner both."

Bobby didn't speak, his breath almost freezing in his throat as he stared at Page. The other man grinned widely.

"That's right, Detective. She's up on the mountain. I left her in Erik's cabin, in that cosy little room where you and your partner spent two whole days tied up."

Bobby pushed himself to his feet and left the room as quickly as he could, leaving Page alone and laughing cruelly to himself.

* * *

_tbc_... 


	12. Rude Awakenings

"What the hell did he mean by all of that?" Brenner demanded to know as they regrouped outside the interrogation room. Initially ignoring Brenner, Alex spoke almost pleadingly to Elliot and Olivia.

"We can't go up there. We can't…"

"It's okay, Alex," Olivia murmured. "We have no intention of forcing you or Bobby to go back up there."

"Excuse me!" Brenner said, raising the volume of his voice to make himself heard. "I asked a question. What's going on?"

Elliot, Olivia, Logan and Bishop all looked wordlessly to Bobby and Alex, who both cringed noticeably at suddenly being the centre of attention.

"One of you go ahead and tell him," Bobby said finally, looking very slightly green. "We need coffee."

"Tell me what?" Brenner asked in increasing frustration as Bobby and Alex disappeared around the corner in search of the much-needed liquid. "What is going on?"

Elliot sighed heavily. He wasn't looking forward to this little confession at all.

"You remember at dinner last night, you mentioned Chief Salinger's phone call to you? And that he told you two of us had… _invaluable_ experience?"

Brenner nodded, staring at Elliot with growing suspicion. Elliot went on grimly.

"Well, he was talking about Detective Goren and Detective Eames. You might be aware that Erik Mathers' last two victims were cops."

Brenner nodded.

"Yes. I was a deputy, then. I remember the task force that descended on this place. None of us had ever seen anything like it…" He trailed off, realisation dawning in his eyes. "You're not serious… It was _them_? Goren and Eames were Erik's last two victims?"

"Bingo," Logan confirmed quietly.

"God almighty," Brenner muttered. Elliot nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, that's what we all thought at the time."

Brenner frowned for a moment as he mulled over that. Then, his eyes widened in shock.

"Salinger knew that… but he still sent them back here? That callous son of a bitch!"

"We have to get a team organised straight away to head up the mountain," Olivia said quietly. "But we can't force Detective Goren or Detective Eames to go along."

Brenner nodded seriously.

"I agree. Now, I know that if it was me, I'd take offence to the suggestion I wasn't capable of doing something, even if I knew it was true. But what I'm trying to say, is do you think they'd accept it if I asked them to take charge here while we go looking for the little girl? It's not strictly necessary… this place could run on a skeleton staff of one… but even so…"

Elliot and Olivia exchanged wordless glances, and then Elliot nodded his concurrence.

"We appreciate the consideration, Lieutenant, but after everything that's gone on today, I just wonder if it might be better if Goren and Eames just head back to the motel, and get some rest. Especially Goren."

Logan nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, did you see the way Goren was limping? That leg must really be giving him hell."

"I know," Elliot agreed. "I'll give them the option, but I know what I'd prefer they do. Especially considering neither one got a hell of a lot of sleep last night, what with nightmares and all. 'Scuse me, I'd better go find them."

"Okay," Brenner muttered as Elliot went to find Bobby and Alex. "Let's move, people. We've got a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it."

* * *

Elliot eventually found Bobby and Alex sitting together outside the station, nursing lukewarm cups of coffee and staring balefully at the mountain that was truly the bane of their existence. He approached them cautiously, expecting one or both to protest fiercely at the thought of having to go up the mountain. As he came around to stand in front of them, Bobby looked up at him, ashen-faced.

"When are we going up there?"

Elliot felt his throat tighten with emotion. Even though the prospect was clearly making them both sick to their stomachs, both were willing to do whatever had to be done to save the life of an innocent victim, no matter what pain and grief it caused them personally.

"You're not," Elliot told them quietly. Both Bobby and Alex looked up at him, neither able to quite hide the hope that lit up their eyes. "Brenner needs to come with us to find the cabin, but someone needs to be here to keep things under control. He asked if any of us would be willing to stay behind. I volunteered you two."

Alex smiled faintly. "I don't know if I should be thanking you or hitting you."

Elliot hesitated, taking in Alex's sad smile, and the uncertainty on Bobby's face, then sat down on the other side of Bobby.

"If you're not happy about that, then say so now," Elliot told them. "If you'd rather go…"

"No," Bobby cut in quickly. "No, we'd rather stay here. I just… I mean… We know what we _should_ do. But that's a different thing entirely to what we're _capable_ of doing. And… I just don't think we can do it."

Elliot looked past him to Alex.

"Alex? What about you? What do you want to do?"

She glanced at him just briefly before returning her gaze to the ground.

"Bobby's right. We should go up there… We should face it. But we can't. We… we just can't."

"It's okay," Elliot told them. "I understand. We all do. Anyway, if you ask me, you two have done your fair share already. You kept my ass from getting shot off earlier today… You identified Page as a prime suspect _within_ twenty-four hours of us getting here… which, I think, has got to be some sort of record… _and_ you got the slimy son of a bitch to tell us where his last victim is." He looked up as thunder rolled overhead. "You've done more than your fair share, actually. Tell me, how are you both feeling? Honestly."

"Honestly?" Bobby asked quietly. "Tired. And generally sick of being here."

Alex nodded in wordless agreement.

"Look," Elliot said quietly, "why don't you both just head back to the motel? Get some rest. God knows, you've earned it. Truth is, this place doesn't need anyone here to run it, and if they need you for anything, there're your cell phones."

"If I wasn't feeling so damned lousy," Bobby murmured, "I might take offence to that."

"Don't," Elliot retorted. "I'm not making that offer out of pity. Don't forget, Olivia and I are in charge. If you force me to, I'll order you to go back to the motel and get some rest."

Bobby laughed softly, and Alex couldn't help but smile.

"Well," she murmured, "if you put it like that…"

"Yeah," Elliot said firmly. "I do."

Bobby sighed softly.

"Okay. Thanks, Elliot."

"Don't mention it."

"No," Bobby said more firmly, looking sideways at the other detective. "I mean it… Thankyou. For everything… everything you and Olivia have done to help us survive this. You didn't have to go to the lengths you did. You need to know how much we've appreciated it."

Elliot clapped Bobby lightly on the shoulder as he stood up, then tossed a set of car keys to Alex.

"Take the car. Go back to the motel… Consider yourselves off duty, effective immediately."

Bobby and Alex watched him retreat back into the station, and then looked at each other in mild amusement.

"Did you hear that?" Alex asked with a grin. "We're off duty."

Bobby nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I heard. Wanna go to bed?"

He tried to duck out of the way a second later, but wasn't quick enough to avoid being swatted on the arm.

"Smart ass," she retorted, but couldn't keep the grin off her face. All of a sudden, the prospect of being able to curl up in a nice warm bed, cuddled up to her partner and best friend, seemed very inviting indeed. But first, she needed decent, _hot_ coffee. She stood up decisively, and gently tugged him to his feet as well. "C'mon, you big goof. Let's find somewhere that serves real coffee, and _then_ we can go to bed."

Bobby grinned, and trailed after her, not all that unlike an obedient puppy.

* * *

_A few hours later_

"Aw, crap."

Bobby eyed Alex curiously as she emerged from the bathroom in tracksuit pants and T-shirt, and climbed into the bed next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"We forgot to tell Elliot and Olivia about Salinger."

Bobby frowned as he realised she was right.

"Well… too late to worry about it now. They left to go up the mountain nearly an hour ago with a team from Search and Rescue, and they're not likely to be back until some time early tomorrow morning."

Alex sighed as she settled down next to him in the warm bed, smiling as his arms slipped around her in what was now an automatic action.

"Screw Salinger," she murmured, sleep starting to overtake her already. "He's shows up now, I might just shoot him. No witnesses, except you… They'd rule self defence, for sure."

Bobby smiled affectionately at the petite woman curled up against him.

"For sure," he agreed softly. "Go to sleep, Alex. Everything's okay."

"Mm. 'Night… Bobby…"

Then she was asleep.

Bobby lay awake for a while longer, content to listen to her slow, steady breathing, and feel her arms hugging him close… content to know she felt safe and secure in his embrace. He finally slid off to sleep himself nearly half an hour later, all thoughts of Salinger, and the potential danger he presented, banished completely from his tired mind.

* * *

Alex awoke to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Dazed and still half-asleep, she extracted herself carefully from Bobby and rolled awkwardly out of bed, half-stumbling over to the door. It was dark now, her sleep-fogged mind noted dimly as she nearly tripped over a chair on her way to the door.

Shaking her head in an effort to clear it, she opened the door, expecting to find one of their colleagues there… and ready to tell whoever it was to take a hike and come back later in the morning.

"Detective Eames."

Alex froze, snapped almost painfully out of sleep as she found herself face to face with Chief Gary Salinger. He stared back at her, a distinct sneer on his face that was impossible to misinterpret. She opened her mouth to speak, only to find herself at a complete loss for words.

"I won't say anything right at the moment about the fact that you and Detective Goren are sharing a room." He glanced past her into the dark room. "I'm not even going to comment on the fact that you appear to be sharing a bed. Don't misunderstand me, I _will_ be raising this issue in due time, but there are more important issues at hand right at the moment. Now, wake your partner up, and both of you get dressed. I'll be waiting for you out here, so don't make me any angrier than I already am by wasting time."

"What…?" she stammered, confused by Salinger's sudden appearance despite the warning from Deakins and Adkins.

"What am I doing here?" he suggested, when she faltered. "I decided to come up here myself because I didn't trust you or your ape of a partner, and it seems I was right. But I'm not going to quibble over that now. I just came from the local police headquarters. Apparently there's some trouble up on the mountain. The missing girl isn't where Mr Page claimed she was. You and Detective Goren need to talk to Mr Page again, now."

Alex let her breath out in a rush. She had half-expected the slimy bastard to say they had to go up the mountain, and it was an enormous relief not to be told that.

"Wake up your partner, Detective Eames, and hurry up and get dressed. I'm fully aware that, considering his injuries, it could take Detective Goren a bit longer to get dressed, but I expect you to be ready and out here in no more than five minutes."

"Sir…"

"Don't argue with me, Detective. You're in enough trouble as it is. You take any longer than five minutes, and I'll be coming in after you. And believe me when I tell you that you don't want that to happen. The clock is ticking, Detective. Get moving."

Alex pushed the door shut in his face, her heart pounding in her chest. She stood frozen for a long moment, struggling to get her head around everything before switching the light on and walking back to the bed.

"Bobby. Bobby, wake up."

A muffled groan met her words, followed by something that sounded like "gimmefewmoreminnus", and she almost smiled.

"Bobby, you have to wake up. It's Salinger. He's here."

Bobby's eyes snapped open, and he stared up at her, dragged unceremoniously back into awareness by the news. A moment later, he groaned again.

"I think I just had a nightmare. Could've sworn you just said Salinger was here."

"I did."

He froze again, the colour draining from his face.

"Salinger."

"Yes."

"Here."

"Yes.

"Oh… fuck."

She couldn't bring herself to smile at his blunt reaction.

"He's waiting outside for us, Bobby. He knows… about this."

She motioned vaguely to the bed. Bobby pushed himself up slowly. Alex imagined that the disconsolate look on his face probably mirrored her own right at that moment.

"C'mon," she said softly, suddenly finding she had to struggle not to start crying as the implications of Salinger's sudden arrival and consequent discovery of their sleeping arrangements began to sink in. "We have to get dressed. Son of a bitch told me I had five minutes to get dressed and get out there, or he'd come in after me."

"You want me to shoot him now, or later?" Bobby mumbled as he swung himself carefully around, cringing visibly at the pain in his leg. Alex paused on her way to the bathroom, looking back at him in concern.

"It's getting worse again, isn't it?"

He nodded once.

"Yeah. It'll be okay, though. I'll get Fin to give it a work over when they get back."

"Fin?" she asked, her voice floating out to him from the sanctuary of the bathroom. "What do you mean?"

"He worked on it last night," Bobby answered through clenched teeth as he pushed off his sweat pants and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and trousers. "Massaged it… you know."

She emerged from the bathroom fully dressed a couple of minutes later and walked around the bed, picking up his leg brace and crouching down to fit it carefully onto his leg.

"Don't take too long, okay?" she murmured. "We don't need to piss him off anymore than he already is."

Bobby sighed. "It'll be okay, Alex. We just hold our tongues for now, be good little subordinates, and when we get home, we can sit back and let Adkins kick his ass all over the five boroughs."

She smiled, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't really believe him. He watched as she slipped out the door, then set about finishing getting dressed.

* * *

He'd just pulled on his jacket and coat and was reaching for his cane when Adkins' warning came back to him, that under no circumstances should they allow themselves to be caught alone with Salinger. It was a little too late for that, he thought grimly, but if something were to go wrong, perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to leave something for their colleagues…

Before he had a chance to decide what, exactly, he should do, the door opened almost violently, and Salinger looked in.

"Detective! Get out here, quickly. Your partner's collapsed."

Heart in his throat, Bobby grabbed his cane and hurried out of the room as fast as his aching leg would allow him.

"What happened?" Bobby asked as he came out of the room to find Alex lying slumped on the asphalt, unconscious. Disregarding the way his leg screamed in protest, he crouched down beside her as low as he could.

"She just took a couple of steps, and dropped," Salinger answered as he came up to stand behind Bobby.

"C'mon, Alex," Bobby murmured as he reached down to turn her over. "C'mon, wake up…"

In hindsight, Bobby would reflect that he should have known better than to turn his back on the Chief of Detectives, but at that point his concerns were exclusively with his partner. As a consequence, he never saw Salinger take a large handkerchief from his pocket, or the smoky liquid that the Chief of Detectives poured carefully onto the handkerchief.

The cloth was over his face and jammed into his mouth and nose before he fully realised just what was happening. Instinctively, he drew in a deep, panicked breath, only to suffer a sickening wave of dizziness and nausea. He tried to put up a fight, throwing himself backwards in a valiant effort to get Salinger off him, but the other man had a strong grip, and the effects of the chloroform were rapidly taking hold.

He twisted around, trying desperately to pull out of Salinger's hold, and briefly he broke free, throwing Salinger off. Then, the chief was on him again, and the chloroform-soaked handkerchief was back over his face, held there even tighter than before.

A moment later, his legs turned to jelly beneath him, and he collapsed with a painful thud on the asphalt beside Alex. He made a last, desperate grab at his gun, only to find that his hands were no longer working. He drew in one more ragged breath, and the dizziness crashed down on him again, worse than before.

His rapidly blurring gaze fell on his unconscious partner, and then his world turned upside down and faded to black.

* * *

_tbc..._


	13. Dejavu

A/N: To lkq(), your thoughts have been duly noted. I might touch later on why Alex didn't wait for Bobby to finish getting dressed, and consequently placed herself in a situation where she was alone with Salinger. (ie, she had a gun, and didn't think she could be taken unawares again. And we all know what happens when you make assumptions…)  
Secondly, how did Salinger know exactly where to find Bobby and Alex? Well, that will be dealt with before long, I promise you…  
And thankyou all – I thrive on cruel angsty-ness.

* * *

The atmosphere in the van as it arrived back in town shortly after four-thirty in the morning was sombre, to say the least, and was only made worse by the fierce storm that had caught them all unawares around midnight. They had gotten to the cabin shortly before twelve, after the long drive up the mountain and an equally long trek along the rough path to the cabin. They had arrived at the cabin soaked to the bone, and near frozen. At that stage, all that had kept them moving was the hope of finding Jane McManus alive.

They had found the missing girl right where Page had said she would be, tied up and locked in that little concrete room which had been Bobby and Alex's prison for two days not so long ago. Despite their hopes of finding her alive, though, they had been too late.

The girl had been dead less than five hours, dead from a lethal combination of exposure and suffocation, and the ME that attended the scene grimly declared there was little they could have done even if they had arrived earlier. According to him, they would have needed to arrive a good ten hours earlier to have been in time to save her.

The knowledge was of little comfort to any of them.

"You think we should let Bobby and Alex know?" Olivia asked Elliot softly as they and the other four detectives finally arrived back at the motel. Elliot watched as their colleagues headed off to their rooms in silence, tired and dejected by the grim find.

"No," he murmured finally. "They'll hear soon enough. No need to disturb them now. Let's just get in a few hours sleep while we still can."

Olivia hesitated, on the verge of arguing. She knew if it were her, she'd want to know straight away… but Elliot was probably right. They would find out soon enough. There was little point in waking them up now.

"Okay," she conceded. "See you in a few hours, I guess."

Elliot nodded and headed off wearily to the room he shared with Logan and Munch. Olivia watched him go, then headed off to her own room, and a few hours of much needed sleep.

* * *

_10a.m.  
__The same morning_

Lieutenant Gus Brenner sat in his office, paperwork sitting untouched on his desk. As yet, none of the New York detectives had made an appearance, but nor was he in a hurry for them to do so. It had been a long, awful night, and if they were able to get a few hours extra sleep, then so much the better for them. He certainly wasn't going to begrudge any of them that little bit extra time. They had their killer, and there were no more hidden victims, yet to be discovered. All that remained was to wrap up the investigation, and officially charge Tobias Page with the murders of seven people.

There was a light knock on his door, and he looked up to see one of his deputies standing there, looking in uncertainly.

"What is it, Bill?" he asked tiredly.

"We, uh… We have visitors."

Brenner raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Visitors? Care to elaborate?"

Bill glanced back over his shoulder, then grimaced and stepped out of the way. A moment later, two men walked into Brenner's office, both with an air of authority that Brenner couldn't hope to match.

"Lieutenant Brenner?" the first man asked, and went on without waiting for an answer. "I'm Police Commissioner Gerald Adkins."

Brenner blanched visibly.

"_Commissioner_?"

Adkins nodded.

"That's right. And this is Captain James Deakins, head of the NYPD's Major Case Squad."

Brenner stood up quickly, almost knocking his chair over in his hurry to get up.

"This is a surprise," he stammered. "To what do we owe the honour, Commissioner?"

"This is no pleasure visit, Lieutenant. We need to see the detectives who have been assisting you, immediately."

Brenner stared at the two of them for a long moment before shaking himself out of his stupor.

"Well… We had a pretty rough night last night. They're all still at their motel."

Adkins nodded.

"We'd appreciate it if you'd escort us there straight away."

Again, Brenner was left momentarily speechless. Then, finally, he nodded his acquiescence and grabbed his car keys from his desk drawer.

"Okay. This way, gentlemen."

* * *

Bishop emerged from the room she was sharing with Olivia just before ten, feeling slightly guilty about sleeping so late, but feeling physically and mentally better for it. After last night's events, they'd all needed that little bit extra time. That seemed to be proven when she came out to find none of her colleagues appeared to be up yet.

She turned, intending to go back inside, when she spotted a familiar figure sitting further along, encased in shadows. After a moment's hesitation, she went to speak to him.

"Mike? How long have you been out here?"

Logan looked around as she approached, then shook his head.

"Not long. Half an hour, maybe. We all overslept."

"I don't think it matters too much now. All we have left to do is the clean-up."

He laughed softly. "Ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Ah, nothing. I just think it's funny… Salinger ended up doing us all a favour by demanding that Bobby and Alex came along. Without them, we'd probably still be fumbling around looking for a suspect. Gotta hand it to them. They're good. They're damned good."

Bishop smiled softly.

"So are you. Don't knock yourself."

"I'm not," Logan reassured her. "I'm not knocking any of us. But whoever it was that said it was right when they said that having Bobby and Alex here would mean getting home just that much quicker." He paused, the smile fading a little from his face. "There's just one thing bothering me."

"What's that?"

"Page insisted all along yesterday that he never took the McManus girl."

"And yet he knew exactly where we'd find her," Bishop pointed out. Logan nodded.

"I know, but think about it. All the other women he took… and it was _women_, not girls… had been raped. The girl hadn't been touched. Not like that."

Bishop chewed lightly on her lower lip, feeling mildly disturbed. He was right, little though she liked to admit it.

"So… what are you thinking?" she asked quietly. Logan shrugged.

"Honestly, I don't know. Like you said, he knew exactly where she was, after all."

"Accomplice?" Bishop suggested, feeling a chill in her gut at the possibility.

"No," Logan said decisively. "Not an accomplice. Page isn't a sharing kind of a guy. I don't know… Maybe he did take her. It just doesn't seem to fit."

Bishop was about to suggest he stop worrying about it when she spotted a familiar vehicle turning into the motel car park.

"Isn't that Brenner's car?"

Logan nodded.

"Yeah. But who's that with him…?"

"Captain Deakins?" Bishop exclaimed, startled as she recognised the man in the front passenger seat. Logan's eyes widened as he recognised the second passenger.

"Commissioner Adkins!"

The car pulled up, and the three men got out, Adkins pausing to help Deakins with his cane. Logan and Bishop approached slowly, puzzled by their unexpected appearance.

"Logan," Deakins greeted them grimly. "Bishop."

"Sir…" Bishop stammered. "What… What are you doing here?"

"That's slightly complicated," Adkins said ruefully. "We need to see all of you now. If you'd care to rouse your colleagues…?"

Logan and Bishop exchanged baffled glances, but conceded without argument, turning to go and get their fellow detectives.

* * *

Short minutes later, six of the eight detectives have assembled in the car park, all equally confused by the sudden appearance of not only Deakins, but Commissioner Adkins as well.

"What about Goren and Eames?" Adkins asked, looking at the group with a frown. "Where are they?"

Elliot and Olivia exchanged grim looks, each anticipating the same explosion if Adkins were to find out that the two Major Case detectives were currently sharing a room _and_ a bed on the other side of the motel.

"They're around the other side," Elliot said finally. "I'll go get them."

* * *

Elliot came to a halt outside the door of Bobby and Alex's room, rapping hard on the wood.

"Bobby! Alex, open up!" he called out as loudly as he dared. "C'mon, guys. Deakins and Adkins are here! They catch you sharing a room, and it'll be all our heads on the chopping block!"

There was no answer from within. Elliot took a step back, and was just considering his options when Deakins came around the corner.

"Detective Stabler?"

Elliot froze, his tanned face turning grey.

"Uh… Captain Deakins… I… uh…"

Deakins took in Elliot's ashen features, then looked at the door that he was standing in front of.

"Bobby and Alex are sharing a room, aren't they?"

Elliot swallowed hard, unable to bring himself to answer. Deakins regarded him with barely suppressed amusement.

"And I'm guessing that you and Detective Benson had something to do with organising it."

Again, all Elliot could do was swallow. Deakins laughed softly.

"Relax, Detective. I've known for a while that Bobby and Alex are inclined to share a bed. It's often the only thing that will get them through the night without suffering nightmares. I wouldn't, however, recommend letting Commissioner Adkins find out about it. As positive as he is towards them, I suspect that this might stretch even his limits of acceptance."

Elliot coughed, and was relieved to find his voice.

Sir… Sorry… There's no answer, and I don't have a key to get in there."

Deakins amused smiled faltered noticeably.

"Would you hold this, please, Detective?"

Elliot took Deakins' cane, and stepped aside as the older man pulled a length of wire from within his jacket and leaned in close to the lock. The SVU detective watched, wide-eyed, as the Major Case captain set about picking the lock of Bobby and Alex's motel room.

Half a minute later, there was a distinct click, and the door opened up.

"Ten years ago, I could have done that in half the time," Deakins admitted ruefully as he accepted his cane back from Elliot, and pushed the door open.

"Empty…" Elliot stated unnecessarily as they walked in to find an empty room.

"Bed's been slept in," Deakins observed. He walked over, and lay his palm on the sheets. "Cold. They didn't leave recently. Detective Stabler, where else might they be?"

Elliot looked around, trying hard to ignore the budding sensation of panic deep in his gut.

"They could be over in the restaurant having breakfast."

"Could you go and check, please?"

Elliot took off at a run to do so, even as Deakins pulled out his cell phone and dialled first Alex's phone, and then Bobby's. Both rang out.

"Jim? What's going on?"

Deakins looked around as Adkins entered the room, with Olivia close behind him.

"They're not here," Deakins answered, and found he had to make an effort to keep his voice level and free of panic. "Stabler has just gone to see if they're in the restaurant."

Adkins looked past Deakins to the bed, a slight frown developing on his face.

"They were… sharing a room? _And_ a bed? Jim…?"

"Please, Commissioner, not now," Deakins pleaded. "I'll explain it to you later, but right now…"

He trailed off as Elliot came back.

"They're not in the restaurant. No one's seen them in there at all this morning."

"Neither of them are answering their cell phones," Deakins said, his voice starting to sound very strained.

"Well, there's no sign of trouble," Olivia surmised as she looked around the room with a critical eye. "No sign of a struggle…"

"When did any of you last see them?" Deakins asked, looking from Olivia to Elliot.

"Late yesterday afternoon," Elliot answered, starting to feel sick. "We had to go up the mountain last night, and I wasn't going to make them come with us. I told them to consider themselves off duty, and to come back to the motel and get some rest. Neither of them slept really well the night before."

Deakins looked over at Adkins.

"He could already be here."

Adkins nodded.

"I don't doubt that he's already here. Judging by what you told me, the son of a bitch could have been here all along, just waiting for his chance."

"What's going on?" Olivia asked, looking at them with growing trepidation.

"We have reason to believe that Chief Salinger was on his way here," Adkins answered, "and that he may have less than honourable purposes towards Detective Goren and Detective Eames."

Elliot and Olivia took a moment to digest the inference in Adkins' words.

"You're saying he might be trying to kill them," Elliot said finally. Adkins looked at Deakins, and then nodded slowly.

"Yes, Detective Stabler. That's what I'm saying."

"Hell," Olivia muttered.

"Hey, what's going on?" Logan asked as he appeared in the doorway. He faltered, looking around the room in confusion. "Where are they?"

"That's the million dollar question, Logan," Elliot answered grimly. Logan stood frozen as his mind quickly came to the conclusion that something was very wrong indeed. In that same moment, his earlier conversation with Bishop came rushing back, and the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

_Not an accomplice. Page isn't a sharing kind of a guy. I don't know… Maybe he did take her. It just doesn't seem to fit_…

He sucked in a sharp breath. The girl hadn't been abducted and killed by Page, or an accomplice of Page's… But he knew where to find her anyway… A diversion… An innocent little girl had been abducted and killed, purely to serve as a diversion…

"We have to talk to Toby Page."

"Who is that?" Deakins asked.

"The guy we nailed for the murders," Logan explained urgently as he led the way out of the room. "He insisted that he never grabbed the little girl that we went up the mountain, but he knew exactly where she was anyway. I don't think he _did_ take her, but I think whoever did told him what to tell us, because taking that kid was only ever meant as a diversion. Whoever did take her had to know Goren and Eames would stay behind when the rest of us went up the mountain to find the kid."

"Salinger must have grabbed the kid," Elliot said, drawing a startled look from Logan.

"Salinger? _Chief_ _Salinger_?"

"That's right, Logan," Adkins said grimly as they walked quickly back to the main car park, where Brenner and the other detectives were waiting.

"What's happened?" Brenner asked as they rejoined the group.

"That's what we're trying to work out," Adkins answered. He looked around the group with a grim, piercing stare. "For those of you who aren't aware, Detectives Goren and Eames are missing. There are no obvious signs of a disturbance in their motel room, and we have no idea exactly how long they might have been gone for. Presumably, it might have happened any time between when you all went up the mountain last night, and now. Detective Logan has suggested that perhaps the abduction and murder of the little girl was purely a distraction to separate you from them, to give the person who took them open slather. Does anyone have thoughts on that scenario?"

Silence met Adkins' query as they all took a moment to consider his words.

"We have to go back to Page," Bishop said finally, echoing Logan's words. "Even if he didn't have anything directly to do with what happened to Jane McManus, he knows more than he's told us. We need to get him to tell us everything."

"Good luck," Munch muttered. "He obviously only came clean yesterday because it was part of the master plan to set up Goren and Eames."

"We have to try," Logan insisted, then cursed softly as his cell phone beeped loudly, alerting him to an incoming message. He turned away to check it, scowling at the unwanted interruption.

"Hang on," Olivia interrupted. "There's no point in all of us going charging back to the precinct. Think about it. If it _is_ who we think, and he _does_ have Bobby and Alex, then I think it's pretty obvious where he's taken them."

"Up the mountain," Deakins said in a soft, tense voice. Olivia nodded.

"Exactly. Up the mountain, and probably back to Mathers' cabin. Shouldn't a team of us head straight up there, instead of wasting time with Page when he probably isn't going to tell us anything anyway?"

Adkins nodded in agreement.

"I think you're right, Detective Benson." He looked around. "Jim? I know you're not going to like this, but I want you to stay here. Go back to the precinct with Fin and Munch, and talk to Mr Page."

"You're right," Deakins agreed frostily. "I don't like it."

"Captain, think about it," Bishop told him carefully. "You remember what it was like getting from the road to Mathers' cabin the last time? It's no easier now, sir."

Deakins tried hard not to look aggravated, and failed miserably.

"I said I didn't like it. I didn't say I wouldn't go along with it. Commissioner, just promise me you'll do everything you can to find them?"

Adkins nodded.

"You have my word, Jim. We'll bring them back, and I'll shoot that bastard Salinger myself, if I have to."

Deakins nodded, but before he had a chance to comment further, Logan suddenly swore loudly, drawing everyone's attention.

"Got a problem there, Logan?" Fin asked, frowning darkly. Logan looked up, and his suddenly frightened gaze quickly found Deakins.

"What is it, Logan?" Deakins asked. Logan held his phone out to the captain.

"You'd better look at this, Captain."

Deakins took the phone from him and looked at the screen. Seconds later, his already pale face turned a deathly grey.

"Oh god…"

Adkins stepped over to look, and swore softly. On the screen of Logan's cell phone was a slightly grainy image of Bobby, lying on his stomach on a cement floor. His wrists were bound tightly behind his back, his leg brace was gone, and his feet were forcibly elevated off the floor, and joined to his bound wrists by a cruelly short length of rope. He was blindfolded and gagged, and had been stripped of all clothing, except for his trousers. It was, Deakins realised with a growing feeling of nausea, more or less the same way that he had been tied up by Erik Mathers.

"There's a second picture," Logan said in a dull voice. Deakins flipped through to the next image, and had to struggle not to be sick on the spot at the sight of Alex in a similar position to Bobby.

"The son of a bitch has recreated their abduction," Adkins said softly, angrily. "Goddamn it…"

"Do you still want us to talk to Page?" Deakins asked, half-hoping that Adkins would say no. To his acute disappointment, Adkins responded with a nod.

"Yes, Jim. See what you can get out of him. Lieutenant Brenner?"

Brenner came forward, looking surprisingly reluctant all of a sudden.

"With all due respect, Commissioner, I can't see what the point of talking to Page is. He's not going to tell us anything that'll help us find them. We know where they've been taken."

Adkins nodded impatiently. "Your concerns are duly noted, Lieutenant. Now, I'd very much appreciate it if you would contact Search and Rescue, and mobilise your team. We're going up that mountain, _now_."

* * *

_tbc..._


	14. A Whole New Nightmare

_Some hours later_

Bobby awoke slowly to a sore head, a rolling stomach and the remnants of an absolutely terrifying nightmare. Like so many of its kind before it, he had dreamt he was back in that little room in Erik Mathers' cabin, tied up, gagged and blindfolded, and completely helpless.

As had happened so many times before in those pre-waking moments, as he came slowly back to awareness he could actually feel the ropes around his wrists and ankles. He could feel the gag jammed into his mouth, and he could feel the rough material of the blindfold that covered his eyes. A soft moan escaped his lips. Before long, reality would kick in, and he would wake up to find himself in a nice, warm bed, hugging his partner and best friend to him. Any moment now…

It took a good two or three minutes for Bobby to come to the frightening realisation that he was already awake, and that the nightmare was, in fact, very real. Bobby snapped back to awareness, sudden panic causing the adrenalin to pump through his body. He tried desperately to remember what had happened, but his memory was sketchy, at best. He recalled that Salinger had turned up… at the motel? And that he had somehow taken Alex out, and then him. Beyond that, his memories were a hopeless blur.

Fresh, agonising pain flared through his leg, drawing a muffled sob of pain from him. He tried to move, desperate to alleviate the pain, only to find that he was indeed tied up in exactly the same way that he had been when Erik Mathers had abducted him and Alex so many months ago…

Alex.

His heart rate sky-rocketed as his panicked thoughts turned to his partner. Was she beside him?

He gave another muffled cry, but there was no response. So, she was either still unconscious, or she wasn't there. God, he hoped it was just that she was still unconscious. The thought that they might have been separated was just about more than he could stomach.

He tried to shift, in the hope of making contact, but the pain that screamed through his leg brought him up short. Even the slightest movement was agony, and he dared not do anything to intentionally aggravate his damaged leg. He was still contemplating what to do, when he sensed movement next to him, on his left.

Bobby cried out Alex's name, even though it came out as garbled nonsense through the gag. He was rewarded with a weak moan. Alex was just waking up. How long before she, too, realised just where they were? For he was sure, now, that they were in that god-awful little room in Erik Mathers' cabin.

It didn't take long. Bobby estimated that it took less than a minute for the weary moans to turn into muffled screams of panic. He wanted so desperately to be able to hug her, and tell her it was going to be okay, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't even touch his forehead to hers, the gesture that had given them both much-needed comfort back during the first days of their original abduction by Mathers.

Gradually, Alex's cries faded into miserable sobs which, in turn, eventually faded away altogether. They lay in silence for a while, and then Bobby heard the sound of Alex grunting softly with effort. He wondered dimly what she was doing, and felt a bizarre sense of dejavu when, a couple of minutes later, he felt her body come to rest against his.

In a curious role reversal, Alex had managed to shuffle her body just far enough over that she could lean in against him, reassuring both of them of the other's presence. Bobby turned his face inwards, bringing his cheek to rest against the top of her head.

It gave neither of them much comfort. The paralysing fear they were both experiencing was far too great to disregard, even for a short while.

Alex moaned again softly, and Bobby nuzzled her gently with his cheek. She pushed against him just a little, needing to be as close as possible, as though by keeping pressed tightly together, Salinger would not be able to separate them.

Bobby shuddered, the tremor passing through his body and, consequently, through hers as well. This was a fear that he had hoped and prayed they would never experience again. And yet, here they were, trapped and helpless. Helpless… Victimised…

The rage that settled deep in his gut was matched right then only by his fear, and the instant he had the opportunity, be it even for just a split second, he was going to kill Salinger. Right then, he didn't give a damn if he went to prison for it. He _was_ going to kill him.

"Don't you two look nice and cosy."

Alex stiffened against him, and Bobby stiffened as well at the sound of Salinger's voice behind them.

"Actually," Salinger said with a cruel smile as he walked around the helpless pair, "you look pretty pathetic. The NYPD's best. What a joke that is."

Bobby growled deeply in his throat, wishing miserably that he could tell Salinger to go fuck himself. Salinger paused, and then crouched down carefully in front of Bobby. After a moment's consideration, he reached down, grabbed a fistful of Bobby's hair and yanked his head up, drawing a pained grunt from the detective.

"You ought to be grateful, Detective Goren. I'm doing you a favour here. I'm making you do what you should have done all along, I'm getting you to _face your fears_. You're a coward, Goren. Both of you are cowards. You're pathetic."

He let Bobby's head drop again, and then stood up.

"I'll let you both in on a little secret. I'm not planning on repeating Erik Mathers' stunt with you both. Firstly, we don't have the time and secondly, I'm not all that great with the crossbow. Also, going by how long you two have been unconscious and anticipating that they'll be in a pretty damn big hurry, I'm guessing we've got maybe an hour at the most before your colleagues get up here. And they will be coming, because I took the liberty of sending pictures of you both to Detective Logan's phone. So, I've got something else in mind. I'm not going to kill you both. Oh, don't get me wrong, one of you, at least, is going to end up dead by the time this is over, but the real question is, which one?"

Alex made an incoherent sound that Bobby suspected was somewhere in the vicinity of 'fuck you'. Salinger laughed softly.

"I bet I know what you were trying to say there, Detective Eames. Well, excuse me, but I'm going to leave those gags on. These walls aren't soundproof, and I don't want you warning off your friends, and spoiling the surprise." He stood up. "They say anticipation of death is worse than death itself. I don't know how true that is, but one of you, at least, is going to find out. You see, I've rigged up a shotgun behind you both. I'll be leaving here shortly, and I'll be rigging the trigger to the door of this room. When it's opened, the shotgun will go off, killing one of you and leaving the other alive. Only catch is, I'm not telling you which of you the shotgun is aimed at. So you won't know who the unlucky soul is until the actual event. Now, I won't be going far, so if you do somehow manage to get yourselves loose, I'll be waiting close by and then I promise you'll both die, without fail. But you both stay here, and one of you will survive to mourn the other. I think that's a pretty generous offer."

Bobby growled again, hating that it was the most he could manage around the gag. There were distinct footsteps as Salinger walked around beside him.

"Detective… You do like pissing me off, don't you? Considering our positions, do you really think that's such a wise idea?"

Bobby growled once again, hoping that Salinger might remove the gag out of sheer curiosity. For nearly a minute, there was no response from Salinger, and Bobby was just starting to wonder what was going on when he felt a hand pulling the gag from his mouth.

"You fucking bastard," Bobby gasped, his voice hoarse, and full of rage. "I'm going to kill you. I swear to God, I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't let us go right now."

Salinger laughed.

"Go ahead and rant all you like, Detective. But I didn't take your gag off for that purpose. I just want to hear you scream."

Bobby had only a couple of seconds to wonder what he meant before Salinger stamped down on his right leg with brutal force.

The scream that tore from his lips reverberated around the cabin, and into the area beyond. Salinger laughed with cruel delight, and then delivered a vicious kick to Bobby's damaged leg. Alex gave a muffled, distressed cry in an instinctive response to Bobby's screams of pain.

"You got lucky in Denton, Detective," Salinger told him as he crouched down to force the gag back into Bobby's mouth. "But not this time. There won't be any recovering from this. I guarantee it…"

An instant later, it was Salinger's turn to scream as Bobby took a fleeting chance, managed somehow to get his teeth around the other man's finger, and bit down as hard as he could. Salinger howled in pain as he tried to pull free, but Bobby had locked his jaw on the digit, and was not letting go. Blood was starting to fill his mouth when Salinger, in a last, desperate effort to free himself, slammed his fist into the side of Bobby's head.

The detective's jaw went slack and he slumped against the floor, stunned, while Salinger finally managed to take back his bloodied finger.

"You goddamn son of a bitch," Salinger hissed as he examined the damage. "You fucking bastard, Goren…"

Bobby had made a good go of it. The flesh was torn right to the bone, and the bone itself was visible. Snarling angrily, Salinger wrapped a large handkerchief tightly around the digit, then turned his attention back to Bobby. Making no effort to be in any way gentle, he shoved the gag very firmly back into place, and tightened the knot at the back of Bobby's head until the material cut cruelly into the corners of his mouth.

Salinger straightened up, paused as he looked the detective over thoughtfully, and then delivered one last kick that broke the femur bone with an ugly and distinct crack.

Bobby gave a muffled howl of pain as the brutal blow rocked his body violently, causing him to crash hard against Alex. As Salinger stepped away from them, Bobby moaned in distress, his blindfold now wet with his own tears.

"I'll leave you alone now," Salinger said softly. "Enjoy the next hour or so. It'll be the last time you ever spend together."

The door slammed hard, and then they were alone once more.

* * *

Toby Page looked up with vague interest as Deakins made his way into the interview room, followed closely by Fin. He eyed the cane Deakins was leaning heavily, and smirked openly.

"Two crippled cops in two days. Wow. Must be a record."

Deakins didn't crack a smile as he sat down carefully opposite Page.

"I'm Captain Deakins, Mr Page. This is Detective Tutuola."

"A captain. I'm flattered. But what happened to the big ape from yesterday? Going up the mountain too much for him?"

Deakins had to make a conscious effort to ignore the derisive comment, and focus on the reason they were there.

"We're here to talk to you about the deal that you made yesterday with Detective Goren, Mr Page."

Page raised an eyebrow slightly.

"What of it?"

"Your end of the deal was to give the location of the little girl, before it was too late to save her."

"Yeah," Page grumbled. "So? What's your point?"

Fin reached into a folder, and tossed a photo of the dead child onto the table in front of Page.

"The point, asshole, is that the deal's off," Fin said harshly. "The little girl's dead."

Page stared at the photo for a long moment before looking back up at Fin and Deakins placidly.

"How is it my problem that you idiots were too slow?"

"Detective Goren made it very clear to you," Deakins said quietly. "He made it very clear that the terms of the deal he made with you rested on finding that little girl alive."

Agitation flickered in Page's eyes as it suddenly sunk in that he might not get what he had asked for.

"I want those apologies. That detective promised me!"

"Then give us a reason to keep our end of the deal," Fin told him. Page scowled up at him.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I told you where the little bitch was. What more can I tell you?"

Deakins leaned forward a little across the table.

"You can tell us how you knew she was there."

Page sat frozen, staring at Deakins tensely. Deakins stared back at him, not flinching.

"Well, Mr Page?"

"I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," Fin countered. "You knew exactly where she was. You gloated about it to Detective Goren. If no one told you where she was, then that means _you_ killed her."

"No, I did not!" Page exploded. "I didn't touch that kid! I told them that yesterday, and I'm telling you now. I didn't kill her! I didn't take her, and I never touched her. I swear I didn't!"

"Then tell us how you knew where she was!" Deakins roared, causing Page to jerk backwards in shock.

For nearly half a minute, the two men stared at each other. Then, finally, a smirk broke out across Page's face once more, and he began to laugh.

"What's so funny, dumb ass?" Fin growled.

"They're gone, aren't they? Your two star detectives, Goren and Eames. They're both gone, and you poor bastards are running around in a panic after your own tails."

Fin and Deakins exchanged looks. Then, Deakins slowly rose out of his chair.

"You just invited us to charge you with complicity in their abduction, Mr Page. Thankyou very much. We'll leave you alone now."

"Hey!" Page burst out, the amused smirk fading quickly from his face. "Wait just a fucking minute! I never said I wasn't going to give you anything."

Deakins looked back at him with a disinterested gaze.

"What are you going to tell us? That they're being held in Erik Mathers' cabin? We already know that. That they were taken by Gary Salinger? We know that too. So what could you possibly have to tell us now that would be of any interest to us?"

He turned away towards the door without waiting for an answer, and was on his way out when Page spoke in a chillingly calm voice.

"You have a traitor in the ranks."

Deakins froze, then looked slowly back at Page.

"What?"

Page smiled coldly.

"A traitor, Captain. You've got a traitor in the ranks."

"Who?" Deakins asked, feeling that sick, sinking feeling in his gut. At that, Page's smile widened.

"You really think I'd just give up that sort of information? I may be looking at the death penalty, but like Detective Goren said, it can take years with appeals. I give up this information now, and I won't last a week. Hell, I probably won't even make it to arraignment. So no, I'm not giving up a name to you. But if you think about it carefully, I think you can probably figure it out for yourself. Only question is, are you going to figure it out in time? You see, what I do know is that your Chief Salinger is only planning to kill one of your detectives. But if those other cops get up there in time to stop it from happening, then they're both going to die. This traitor is going to help make sure of it. One or both? And I don't think you can get up there in time to stop it, Captain. I hope you were nice to your precious detectives the last time you saw them. Because the next time you see them, it might just be on a slab in the morgue."

Deakins stumbled from the room, needing to get out of there before he lost control and tried to hit Page.

"A traitor?" Munch asked as Deakins and Fin joined him in the observation room. "What the fuck is he going on about?"

Fin shrugged. "Beats me."

"Just a minute," Deakins said tensely. "We need to think this over. It's right in front of our faces. Page couldn't have gotten all the information he has from Salinger. The son of a bitch might have lost it, but he wouldn't have been stupid enough to show himself to anyone, not even Page. There's someone else involved."

"Someone who's gone up the mountain," Fin said softly. Deakins nodded.

"Right. Think, Detectives. You're the ones with the answer."

"The room," Fin said suddenly. "Bobby and Alex's room! Salinger found them in their motel room. The son of a bitch _was_ there. CSU found his fingerprints on the doorknob."

Munch caught on quickly.

"Salinger was the one who organised the motel rooms for us to begin with. As far as he should have known, they should have been in one of those rooms. And yet he knew what room to find them in. The owner wouldn't have been able to tell him, either. It had to be someone who knew that extra room was for us… and, specifically for Goren and Eames."

"And not only that," Fin added tensely, "it was the middle of the afternoon. How did he even know they'd be at the motel? No one knew that except us…"

"And Lieutenant Brenner," Munch finished off softly.

Deakins felt an icy chill race through him.

"Brenner had access to Page to feed him the information to give to Bobby."

"And it was Brenner who organised that extra motel room for Bobby and Alex," Fin said. "He _knew_ it was for them, too. Elliot and Olivia told him it was."

"Christ," Deakins whispered. "Fin, Munch, get a hold of Search and Rescue. We need one of their choppers, _now_, to get us up to Mathers' cabin."

"What are you going to do?" Fin asked, as Munch made the urgent call.

"I'm going to call Adkins," Deakins answered grimly as he pulled out his own cell phone and began to plug in a memorised number, "and try to warn him. If Brenner isn't dealt with, we might have more casualties on our hands than just Bobby and Alex."

* * *

Alex lay in silence, hardly daring to breathe long after Salinger had gone. She knew Bobby had done something to incur Salinger's wrath, judging from the asshole's howl of pain. When Salinger shrieked, Alex had silently cheered her partner, feeling a bitter satisfaction that the psychotic bastard had been made to suffer even just a little.

Whatever it was that he'd done, though, it had only enraged Salinger further. She felt sick to her stomach. There was no mistaking the awful sound of breaking bones, and she didn't doubt for an instant that Salinger had deliberately broken Bobby's right leg over again.

She knew the implications of that. Should they get out of this alive, he was probably never going to fully recover from the damage done. Not after having had his leg broken a third time. Whether that would put an end to his career with the NYPD, she didn't know… but that was a bridge to cross further down the track. Now, they had to focus on simply surviving.

It was abundantly clear to Alex that Bobby was incapable of action, so any efforts to prevent the fate that Salinger had presented to them fell to her. The first step was to get her blindfold off, and find out just where that shotgun was, and who it was aimed at. The last time they had been in this situation, Bobby had taken the lead, doing what he could to provide whatever relief was possible. Now, it was her turn to take control.

Shifting awkwardly, Alex twisted her head around, and dragged her face across the concrete floor in an effort to get the blindfold off her face. The rough surface of the floor grazed her skin badly, and she sobbed in pain, but tried again, and again.

She could feel the blood on her face, and the burning pain that accompanied her efforts. Beside her, Bobby had suddenly gone very still and quiet, aware that Alex was doing something. What, he didn't know, but she was definitely doing something.

Crying silent tears of pain, Alex dragged her face along the concrete one more time, and the blindfold finally came loose, pulling free from her head and falling to the floor.

Shuddering, and blinking at the sudden flood of light, Alex took just a moment to recover before she twisted herself around as much as she was able, trying to get a look at the gun that Salinger had claimed was aimed at one of them.

She could see nothing, unable to get her head around far enough to see behind them. Bracing herself for a jarring shock, Alex did the only thing she could think of. She rolled over onto her left side, crying out through the gag at the searing pain as she landed badly, jarring her left arm where it was bound and twisted painfully behind her back.

It wasn't broken, she was fairly sure of that, but she doubted whether she would be able to move any further.

Shaking herself out of the stupor of pain and shock that she was in, Alex looked around, and her heart skipped a beat in fright. There it was. Set on a high stand, and rigged carefully to the outward opening door with a long, fine chain, was a shotgun. And it was aimed directly at Bobby.

* * *

_tbc..._

_A/N: Yes, I know, I'm a bitch for leaving it there. But rest assured I will be working on it every chance I have this weekend, and hopefully there will be a new chapter to read early next week._


	15. Desperate Measures

* * *

"You know, you should have stayed behind, and let Munch or Fin come instead," Olivia commented to her partner as they made their way along the overgrown path towards Erik Mathers' cabin. Elliot shook his head, and tried hard to make his limp less noticeable.

"I'm fine, Liv. Really."

"You can hardly walk, Elliot…"

"I said I'm fine," Elliot snapped. She stared at him in surprise, caught off-guard by his snarling response. A moment later, realisation dawned.

"You feel responsible that Bobby and Alex were taken, don't you? Elliot, that's ridiculous…"

He looked sharply at her.

"Is it? I was the one who insisted they go back to the motel. They both said they should have gone up the mountain with us last night, but I practically ordered them to go back to the motel. But if they'd been with us, Salinger would never have had the chance to grab them."

Olivia sighed softly.

"You had no way of knowing what was going to happen, Elliot. None of us had any idea that Salinger had snapped… that he was here and waiting for a chance to grab them. Newsflash, partner. None of us are psychic."

Elliot looked at her, tired and miserable.

"What does it matter, Liv? If we get there, and we're too late… what does it matter?"

"We'll get there in time," Olivia murmured. "We have to."

"Think positive, people," Adkins said as he came up alongside of them. "We'll get to them in time. Logan?"

"Yes, sir?" Logan called back as the group tramped along the path.

"How far to go?"

Logan jogged to catch up to the Commissioner.

"We're about twenty minutes away. Tell me again why we couldn't use a search and rescue chopper to get up here? It would've been a hell of a lot quicker."

"I tried to get one," Brenner said with a shrug. "But Search & Rescue are caught up with a major rescue operation on the other side of the Adirondacks. Something about a severe landslide. They said they'll send a team in a chopper as soon as they can, but until then, we're on our own."

Adkins nodded, hoping he looked and sounded more positive than he felt. The truth was, he was sick to his stomach with fear for the two missing detectives, and he could only pray and hope that they arrived in time to save them.

The shrill sound of a phone ringing cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere, startling them all mildly. Frowning a little, Adkins pulled his cell phone from his pocket and checked it.

"It's Jim," he murmured, then answered the call. "Adkins here. Yes… Yes… I see. You're positive…? Yes, we're about twenty minutes away from the cabin. We'll be there soon. …All right. Go ahead with that, Jim. Yes, we'll see you then."

He ended the call, and slipped the phone back into his pocket, his expression passive.

"What was that all about?" Bishop wondered.

"Deakins and Fin finished interviewing Page," Adkins answered. "He closed up like a clam, wouldn't tell them a thing."

"Not surprising," Brenner said with a derisive grunt. "So what are they going to do?"

"Only thing they can do," Adkins answered. "They'll stay in town and wait to hear from us. Hopefully, before too long we'll have some good news to report back. Okay, everyone, let's pick up the pace. We're nearly there."

There was not a word of protest as the group hurried along the path, coming ever closer to the cabin and, hopefully, the rescue of their colleagues.

* * *

Alex found herself nearly paralysed by the sight of the shotgun, its deadly barrels pointing downwards at the general vicinity of Bobby's back. Taking into account the new injuries he'd suffered, and the shock of their situation, one blast from that weapon would kill him for sure.

She knew she had to do something, and do it fast. If Salinger had been telling the truth, it was entirely possible that their colleagues would arrive within the hour. Whether they would anticipate Salinger booby-trapping the place like this, she didn't know. She had to assume they wouldn't.

Alex returned her focus to the weapon, and her helpless partner. Though it was hard to judge from the angle she was lying at, she figured that if Bobby were to roll to his right, it would take him just out of the shotgun's sights. At least, she hoped to god that it would. At the very least, it would move him out of direct aim of the weapon.

It would be agony for him, to land on that side and, consequently, on his damaged leg… _damn Salinger_, she thought bitterly… but it was the only way to get him out of the way of the deadly blast.

Her real dilemma lay in how to get him to move. She either had to shift her own position to try and physically push him over, or somehow get her gag off to tell him to do it himself. She doubted she had the time or the strength to achieve both. She didn't know how she was going to achieve either.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as her mind worked furiously for a solution that would save both their lives. God knew she couldn't just lie there and watch Bobby die, but what could she possibly do?

Inadvertently, her mind slipped back several months, before their trip to Denton. A Saturday afternoon spent at Bobby's apartment… Many Saturday afternoons had been spent this way since their individual discharges from hospital after their original ordeal on the damned mountain.

It had been her idea, and they had talked about it off and on for a few weeks, neither terribly keen to actually go through with it. Then, one Saturday afternoon, she turned up at his door with a bag that was filled with various lengths of ropes.

She'd thought for a minute that he was going to panic outright. But no, he'd gotten a grip, and they had discussed the idea properly for the first time since Alex had first raised it.

_"I guess it's a good idea," Bobby had conceded reluctantly. Alex had watched him with sympathy._

_"I know how you feel, Bobby. It makes me sick to my stomach, too. But what if we ever find ourselves in a similar situation again? You know what will happen as well as I do. We'll both freeze up, totally. Don't you think it's worth trying? We can overcome that fear, and give ourselves a bit of practical experience at the same time."_

In the end, he'd conceded, and they had spent that afternoon, and multiple others, tying each other up and learning to escape. Their practise had already come in useful in aiding them to escape From David Graham, Erik Mathers' psychotic father…

Alex drew in a steadying breath. Could she get out of this? It was the one form of binding she hadn't tried under Bobby's supervision. It had been an unspoken agreement between them not to try it for fear of what sort of panicked response it might cause.

Tentatively, she wriggled her wrists. Not surprisingly, the ropes were tight enough to burn the skin of her wrists. She had no hope of freeing herself from those. What _did_ feel a little bit loose, however, was the rope that joined her bound wrists to her bound ankles. If she could just get that rope undone, then she could at least wriggle across the floor, and push Bobby over.

Grunting and sweating with the effort, Alex twisted her hands around as much as she could, as much as the ropes allowed for, and picked awkwardly at the bindings. Sometimes, she thought ruefully as her fingernails finally managed to catch the knot, fingernails really did have a practical application. The next time Bobby gave her hell about her manicures, she was going to take great pleasure in reminding him of this.

Making a conscious effort to breathe evenly, Alex picked carefully at the knot, praying she was truly loosening it and not making it tighter. Her heart was in her throat, and a fear that she hadn't experienced since their capture in Denton by David Graham knotted up her stomach.

She didn't know how much time she had to do this. For all she knew, their colleagues were right outside the door right at that moment, getting ready to open it…

She thrust the thought from her mind. It would do neither her nor Bobby any good to get into a flurry of panic. If she was going to do this successfully, she needed to be calm. Well, as calm as was possible, given their situation.

Across the floor, she was acutely aware of the shuddering whimpers of pain from Bobby. He was trying to stay calm and quiet, but it was a strain that she suspected was quickly becoming too much for him. Not that she blamed him, not at all. The pain in his leg had to be horrendous.

Alex gasped through the gag as the short length of rope suddenly came loose, and her legs dropped to the floor with a painful thud. She took a precious moment to recover, and relish not having her legs forcibly suspended off the floor, before rolling herself over, until her body was pressed once more against Bobby.

He had gone quiet again, waiting to see what she was going to do. He was unable to contain a grunt of surprise as she suddenly pushed against him, as thought trying to push him across the floor.

Alex groaned as she tried, unsuccessfully, to push him over. He was a lot heavier than she'd anticipated, and he wasn't moving an inch.

Damn it, she thought miserably, with fear ever increasing in her gut. If she could only get the gag off, she could tell him to roll over onto his side, but the gag was jammed too tightly into her mouth. She had no hope of forcing it out.

As for Bobby, she suspected he was simply too overcome with pain to be able to think clearly, and understand what she needed him to do.

Alex pulled back from him a little when a second effort failed to move him. She was just considering her options when she heard the distinct sound of the outer door of the cabin opening.

* * *

They arrived at the cabin, and took cover on the south side, near the porch and front door.

"We really need a thermal scan," Adkins murmured as he peered at the building. "We need to know whether Salinger is in there, or if Bobby and Alex are alone in there."

"Or if they're in there at all," Logan added grimly. "We're flying blind here, sir."

Adkins nodded.

"Maybe we are, Logan, but assumptions are all we have at the moment, and we might as well do the best we can with them." He looked around at the team critically. "Can I assume that everyone here knows the lay-out of this place?"

Bishop nodded.

"Yes, sir. There are two rooms. The second is where he'll have them, if they are here. It's a small room built onto the back of the cabin. The only doorway into it is through the main room, and there's a single window that's been boarded up."

Adkins nodded.

"Okay, people, here's the issue. None of you are probably aware of this, but Salinger is no pencil-pushing politician."

A grin tugged at the corners of Logan's mouth, until Adkins flashed him a warning look.

"Save the cracks about alliteration until after this is over, Detective. Right now I need you all to pay attention. Like Detective Goren, Salinger did a stint in the armed forces before joining the NYPD. He was a Navy SEAL, and a damned good one. He knows all the tricks of the trade, including how to rig very effective booby traps."

"That's just great," Olivia moaned. "A psycho with paramilitary training."

"Precisely," Adkins agreed, "which is why we need to be very careful in how we go about this. I don't want us to be responsible for killing Goren and Eames because we just charged in there without a thought to their safety."

"So how do we know he hasn't rigged theplace to blow up as soon as we open the door?" Elliot wondered, a not-so-little part of him suddenly wishing that he was back in Wolf River with Deakins.

"He won't have done that," Adkins replied, sounding more confident than any of his colleagues felt he had a right to be. "I'm certain of that. If he hasn't killed them yet… If he _has_ set up some sort of trap, it'll be rigged to the inner door. He'll want us to see it happen… whatever he has planned."

"Any chance he might have the window rigged, too?" Logan wondered. Adkins shook his head.

"I don't know, and we don't have the equipment to do a thorough check. We're going to have to go this one on instinct. Brenner, I want you, Logan and Bishop and a couple of your men to go around the rear, and check out that window. See if you can't get those boards off, and get a look inside that room. But for God's sake, be careful."

Once they'd gone, Adkins sent the rest of Brenner's men to stand point, and watch for any sign of Salinger. Adkins then turned to look at Elliot and Olivia, and spoke quickly in a low voice.

"Deakins is on his way with Tutuola and Munch."

"Deakins?" Elliot exclaimed. "Do you have any idea how long it'd take him to get here?"

"On foot?" Adkins asked. "Probably half a day. But they're coming in a Search & Rescue chopper."

"Search and Rescue?" Olivia echoed in disbelief. "But Brenner said the Search & Rescue choppers were in use…"

"He lied," Adkins answered grimly. "Listen to me, both of you. Salinger had help. Brenner is in on it, and according to Deakins, if whatever Salinger has set up doesn't kill Goren and Eames, then Brenner will."

Pure fury flashed across Elliot's face, and he withdrew his gun from its holster.

"Over my dead body."

"Be careful what you wish for, Stabler," Adkins warned him.

"Do you have a plan, Commissioner?" Olivia asked. Adkins nodded.

"I spoke to Logan after the call from Deakins. He knows the deal, and he has his instructions. The two of you are with me. We're going in now."

* * *

Panic hit Alex in the form of a mega-burst of adrenalin. She knew deep down in her gut that it was her fellow detectives who had just entered the cabin, which meant she had only minutes… or even less… to get Bobby out of the way of that shotgun.

* * *

"We can get those boards off easy enough," Brenner said as they examined the boards nailed across the window. "Get a good look in there, and see what the situation is. Won't take a moment."

Brenner stepped up and was just reaching for the first of the boards when he froze, suddenly and acutely conscious of the gun pressing just behind his left ear.

"Just put your hands down by your sides, Lieutenant," Logan said softly as he swiftly disarmed the other man.

"Detective Logan? What the hell…?"

"Just do what I tell you," Logan ordered. "Slowly, Lieutenant."

After a long moment, Brenner let his hands drop.

"Very good," Logan murmured. He nodded to Bishop, who stepped in and pulled Brenner's hands behind his back, slipping her handcuffs onto his wrists.

"What the hell is going on?" Brenner burst out. "Why are you handcuffing me? Don't you _want_ your friends back? If we don't get a look in that room…"

"Let me guess," Logan said coldly. "The window's probably rigged to blow up, or something, as soon as we pull the boards off."

"You're crazy, Detective," Brenner growled, starting to sound angry.

"And you're under arrest, for aiding and abetting in the abduction and attempted murder of two police officers."

"What?" Brenner burst out, only to grunt in pain as Logan tightened the cuffs even more.

"You heard me, Lieutenant. Now, I suggest you just stand here and keep your mouth shut. I'd hate to have to use my nice clean handkerchief as a gag because you weren't smart enough to keep quiet. Am I making myself totally clear?"

Brenner looked back at Logan, hatred filling his eyes.

"I should have known when Adkins took that call from Deakins. I should have known Page couldn't keep his filthy mouth shut…"

"Just make sure that you keep _yours_ shut, Lieutenant. I'm not going to tell you again."

Brenner scowled angrily, but said nothing. Logan nodded in satisfaction.

"Good."

"What now?" Bishop asked softly. Logan didn't take his eyes off Brenner.

"Now we wait."

* * *

Alex heard muffled voices on the other side of the door, and outside the window, and gave an equally muffled cry that she knew could not possibly be heard by anyone else. Knowing that any further cries she made were pointless, she returned her attention to her partner. If she could just find a way to get through to him, to make him understand…

Her gaze went to his legs. She'd been loathed to resort to pushing against his legs, but the time for being considerate was past. All she could hope was that she didn't cause damage any worse than that which had already been done.

"…_okay. Open it very carefully_…"

The voice came from immediately outside the door, and Alex quickly recognised it as belonging to Commissioner Adkins. Driven by panic and pure terror, she pushed herself up onto her knees, and all but threw herself against Bobby's up-turned legs.

A muffled scream of pain tore from Bobby's gagged mouth, but it finally did the trick. In an instinctive effort to lessen the impact to his legs, Bobby rolled to his right. Alex grunted as she lost what little sense of balance she still had and collapsed on top of him, drawing another cry of pain from him.

At the same moment, the door opened just a little, but that little bit was enough. The chain, carefully rigged by Salinger, had been almost completely taut to begin with, and as the door was pulled slowly open, it tightened just enough. The trigger on the shotgun squeezed closed, and the gun fired, the blast sounding like an explosion in the stillness of the cabin.

* * *

"Oh no…" Bishop whispered in horror at the sound of the shotgun going off. She looked at Logan, who returned her gaze with a fearful one of his own. Brenner was grinning.

"So much for that…"

His words were cut off very abruptly when Logan punched him hard in the face, sending him to the ground in a dazed heap.

"Next time," Logan snarled, "keep your damned mouth shut." He looked back to Bishop. "Go and see what's happening. I'll bring this piece of shit around in a minute."

She paused, eyeing him sceptically before hurrying away and leaving Logan alone with Brenner.

* * *

The horrifying roar of the shotgun galvanised Adkins, Elliot and Olivia, and they wrenched the door open, expecting to see one, or both, of their colleagues dead.

"Oh, Jesus," Elliot muttered as Adkins ran forward, and gently lifted Alex's limp form from where she'd collapsed across Bobby. Blood trickled from her forehead, from an apparent gunshot wound.

"She's been shot?" Olivia asked hoarsely. Adkins took a moment to examine the injury before shaking his head in relief and setting about untying her.

"No, it's just a surface wound. I'd guess the shot ricocheted off the floor… It just grazed her. Elliot, check Goren."

Elliot dropped to his knees beside his fellow detective, carefully untying first the gag and the blindfold, and then the rest of the bindings.

"Bobby? Can you hear me? C'mon, pal, snap out of it. We're here. You're safe."

Bobby coughed painfully as the gag finally came out of his mouth.

"Someone… give me a… a gun…"

"What for, Detective?" Adkins asked as he took it upon himself to press his handkerchief to Alex's head wound. Bobby shuddered as Elliot helped him to sit up a little, gently guiding the detective to lean back against him while Olivia took one of his wrists and gently began to rub it between her palms in an effort to restore the circulation.

"Because…" Bobby muttered, blinking against the sudden flood of light to his eyes. "I'm gonna… gonna kill… Salinger."

Adkins smiled ruefully.

"I imagine that would seem a very attractive option right at the moment, but I promise you he is going to be brought to account for this."

Bobby's gaze fell on Alex, and fear lit up his eyes.

"Alex…"

"She's all right," Adkins reassured him. "The buckshot from the shotgun just grazed her."

The relief on Bobby's face was palpable.

"What's happening?" Bishop asked as she hurried into the room.

"It's okay," Olivia told her. "They're okay."

"Thank God," Bishop murmured in relief. "When we heard the shotgun go off, we thought the worst."

"Where's Logan?" Adkins asked.

"He's bringing Brenner around," she answered. Bobby looked to Adkins, his confusion obvious through his pain.

"Brenner? What did he have to do with this?"

"He helped Salinger," Elliot explained. "Son of a bitch was helping him all along. I should have known something wasn't kosher. He was way too quick to agree to you two staying behind when the rest of us came up here looking for the little girl."

Bobby sighed faintly.

"You couldn't have known."

"He's right, Stabler," Adkins agreed. "You couldn't possibly have known."

Bobby shifted his position a little, only to groan as pain flared through his right leg.

"Easy," Olivia murmured, releasing Bobby's wrist to take a closer look at his leg. "Jesus, Bobby, your leg…"

Bobby sucked in a long breath that ended in a pained cough.

"He broke it… again. Commissioner… He's got to be close. He said… he'd be watching. That if we got out of this… that he had a contingency plan."

"I'd say Brenner was the contingency plan," Adkins muttered. They looked around as Logan came in, pushing Brenner ahead of him.

"I'll have you up for brutality, you bastard," Brenner was snarling at the tall detective.

"Tell someone who gives a fuck," Logan shot back. Brenner looked over at Adkins, who made no effort to conceal a faint smirk.

"Like he said, Brenner, tell someone who gives a fuck. And that doesn't include anyone in this room. Now, let's assume that Salinger is still close. Brenner, are you going to help yourself out and tell us where the bastard is?"

Brenner looked away sulkily.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Adkins retorted. He looked back at Bobby. "Goren, I need you to tell us everything you can, everything that you know."

Bobby drew in a shuddering breath and tried to shift his position again, but Elliot held him firmly in place.

"Stay still, Bobby," the SVU detective warned him. "We don't need you going into shock."

Bobby grimaced, but didn't protest. He explained what he knew about Salinger's movement in a soft, but steady voice.

"Salinger had that shotgun set up to kill just one of us. I… I guess it was aimed at me. Alex was trying to push me out of the way. That's how she ended up on top of me. He told us that if we managed to escape that… and he wouldn't be going far… then he'd kill both of us."

"Well, we've already got _this_ son of a bitch," Logan said with a frown as he prodded at Brenner.

"Yes," Adkins agreed, "but I wouldn't put it past Salinger to be waiting out there somewhere with a sniper rifle. If that shotgun was meant to kill you, Goren, then he'll be waiting to see whether you really are dead."

A grim smile found its way onto Bobby's face.

"So let's not disappoint him."

* * *

The Search & Rescue chopper landed nearly twenty minutes later, and Deakins, Fin and Munch arrived with a team of medics only to be confronted with a gut wrenching sight. Bishop was sitting on the rough wooden steps of the porch, sobbing into her hands while Olivia tried to comfort her. Deakins froze, staring at the two with an ashen face as his mind leapt rapidly to the logical conclusion.

"No… Please, don't tell me…"

Olivia looked up at him, her own eyes red from crying.

"You'd best go in and see for yourself, sir."

Feeling sick to his stomach with fear, Deakins made his way into the cabin.

"What the…?"

It was all he could manage as he came into the cabin to find both Bobby and Alex hurt, but very much alive. Both were awake, and being tended to as best as possible by Adkins, Elliot and Logan. Adkins looked around as Deakins came in, and offered him a reassuring smile.

"Relax, Jim. They're both okay."

Deakins walked over, looking from Bobby to Alex with a critical stare.

"Then what's that all about outside, with Benson and Bishop?"

Adkins smiled sheepishly, then.

"I asked them to employ their acting skills. Salinger had a shotgun rigged up to kill Goren. Thanks to Eames here, that failed, but we think Salinger is still out there close by, watching to see whether his plan worked."

"And you have Bishop and Benson out there crying in each other's arms to try and convince him that it did."

"Exactly. We were just waiting for you people to arrive to be able to get Goren and Eames out of here safely. Salinger told them that if the shotgun didn't work, then he'd kill the both of them. We're all going to leave this cabin now, and Detective Goren is going to play dead for us."

Deakins looked over at Bobby. The detective was ashen-faced, and clearly in a hell of a lot of pain.

"Bobby? Are you okay with that?"

"Okay with it?" Logan retorted. "It was _his_ idea, Captain."

"Okay," Deakins murmured, frowning a little. "Fair enough… But if Salinger is still out there watching… even if he believes Bobby is dead… what's to stop him from taking a shot at Alex?"

"He said that he wanted one of us to die," Alex explained in a soft, shaky voice, "and one of us to live. More specifically, he wanted one of us to be left completely alone. He wanted to separate us in such a way that we couldn't ever be together again. He's turned his hatred of us into a pathological obsession."

"And we thought Bobby was the shrink of your outfit," Fin teased gently as he crouched down beside Bobby. Alex smiled weakly.

"You think I could go five years, and not have _something_ rub off?"

"Even so…" Deakins argued, loathed to put either of them at risk. Adkins nodded, understanding his fears.

"It's okay, Jim. I know what you're thinking. She'll have a vest on."

"All right. Now tell me this. If this plan works, and Salinger believes Bobby _is_ dead, what's to stop him disappearing?"

"Well," Bobby said tentatively, "we weren't just planning on parading to the chopper. If we want to catch Salinger, we need to lure him out."

Deakins had a horrible suspicion that he knew what was coming, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Lure him out how?"

"Using bait," Bobby explained. "Using… well… using _me_."

"Excuse me?" Deakins growled.

"We're relying on Salinger wanting more than just visual proof," Adkins said. "What's going to happen is this. Goren will be covered up as if he was dead, and he'll be carried to the chopper and left there while the medics come back here."

"We hope that he'll take the bait, and go to the chopper to see for himself to… to see my body," Bobby finished off. Deakins shut his eyes for a long moment, feeling slightly light-headed.

"It's a damned big risk to take."

"For who?" Logan asked with a snort. "Salinger or Bobby? Because if it comes down to bets, I'm putting my money on Bobby."

Deakins looked to Adkins, who nodded reassuringly.

"We'll be watching carefully, Jim. The moment Salinger shows his face, he'll be arrested. And just for a little bit of insurance, Goren will have a gun."

The captain swung around to look at Alex, who gave a very slight shake of her head.

"Don't look at me," she mumbled. "I didn't get a say. And no, I'm not happy about it, but he's right. We need to offer up some sort of bait."

"It's the only way," Bobby argued. "Like you said, Captain, we have to keep him from just disappearing."

Deakins sighed and nodded.

"All right, I understand that, but there has to be a better way than to offer you up as the proverbial sacrificial lamb."

"We're open to suggestions, Jim," Adkins told him quietly. "Do you have an idea?"

For nearly a minute, Deakins didn't answer. Then, a slow smile spread over his face.

"As a matter of fact, I think I do."

* * *

_tbc..._


	16. Turning The Tables

A/N: I know. I'm a bitch. But seriously, I thought the finale was in sight, and then my muse goes and pulls this shit. Oh well. Here we go…

* * *

When Bishop came stumbling out of the cabin in tears after only a few minutes, and Benson followed, looking equally distraught, Salinger was unable to contain the elated feeling inside him. He'd heard the shotgun go off, of course, and though he couldn't envisage a way that Bobby Goren could have escaped his fate, he still hadn't been a hundred percent certain. And when that piece of shit Logan came around with Brenner in handcuffs, Salinger knew that it would be exclusively up to him to finish the job if the shotgun hadn't worked.

He watched as the two women sat together on the steps, one trying to comfort the other. Then Deakins arrived, and Salinger watched as Benson said something to him and pointed to the inside of the cabin. Deakins practically ran inside, and rather than get up and follow, Benson had gone back to comforting her colleague.

He continued to watch, even though all the signs seemed to indicate success. He wanted to see a body. Specifically, he wanted to see Goren's lifeless body, so that he could be sure that his little booby trap had worked.

A smirk twisted his features. How he would have loved to have seen the look on all their faces at the moment when they opened the door, and the shotgun went off. It would have been absolutely priceless. More importantly, though, he was eager to see Eames, to see how she was reacting to the death of her precious partner.

His smirk widened. He'd told Deakins that he'd see them separated. It was Deakins' own fault that it had needed to come to this. If he'd just conceded to splitting them up… like he damn well should have done to begin with… then none of this would have been necessary.

He decided he'd send a little note to Eames a bit further down the track, letting her know that her partner could still have been alive if Deakins had just acted a little more professionally.

The cabin door opened and the medics emerged, carrying a stretcher carefully between them. The body lying on that stretcher was covered completely, from head to toe, with a standard white sheet.

Salinger licked his lips, watching eagerly as Adkins emerged, guiding a stricken Alex Eames. She was damn near hysterical, Salinger thought in amusement.

Adkins guided Alex down the steps, and then bade her sit on the cool grass. She protested vehemently, trying to fight free to follow Deakins, and the medics who were carrying the stretcher bearing Goren's body back to the waiting chopper. Adkins wouldn't allow her to go, though, and finally she collapsed to the grass, crying helplessly. Elliot dropped to the ground beside her and gently drew her to him, hugging her as she cried.

Salinger laughed softly to himself and lowered the gun he'd been holding. He'd been ready to take out Eames, Goren… and anyone else he felt was necessary, but now… Now, it was far more satisfying watching them all wander around like lost sheep.

So far, Logan had not emerged from cabin, but then neither had Brenner, Munch or Tutuola. Salinger chuckled softly to himself. He had a pretty good idea of what was going on inside the cabin right then. Officially, the detectives would be examining the scene, and questioning Brenner. Unofficially, they were probably beating the crap out of the lieutenant.

Well, Salinger thought in amusement, better Brenner than himself.

He looked around in time to see the medics disappear through the trees with the stretcher, Jim Deakins trailing close behind. Sparing the group gathered outside the cabin a final, smug look before abandoning his position and slipping away through the trees.

* * *

"Got him," Munch muttered to himself as he looked out the dirty window with a pair of high-powered binoculars. "Asshole is on the move… He's heading for the chopper."

A muffled cry of protest drew his attention, and Munch looked around at Brenner. The lieutenant sat on the only other chair in the cabin, his hands cuffed securely behind his back. The gag that had kept Bobby silent not long before was now shoved roughly into his mouth to keep him from doing anything to alert Salinger to their plan. Brenner gave a second muffled cry, shaking his head furiously. Munch favoured the man with one of his custom smirks.

"You know, we could always arrange for you have a little time alone with Logan when we get back to town."

Brenner went white, and sank down in the chair. Munch smirked again, and then turned his attention back to the window. Picking up his radio, he spoke into it in a low voice. "He's on the move. He's heading for the chopper."

Sitting back a little, Munch set the binoculars down to wait it out.

* * *

"Okay," Adkins murmured after receiving word from Munch that he'd spotted Salinger moving in the direction of the chopper. "Show time, people."

Alex looked up at Adkins, dropping the hysterical, grief-stricken partner act in an instant, and pulling away from Elliot.

"I'm coming with you."

Adkins frowned.

"Alex, that is not a good idea. You need to stay here, out of harm's way."

"That son of a bitch tried to murder my partner," Alex said heatedly as she got awkwardly to her feet. "Don't tell me I can't, because I have a right! You know I do!"

"You have every right to be a part of this arrest," Adkins agreed. "But for your sake, and Goren's, I can't allow it. Damn it, Eames, you took buckshot to the head! If you aren't concussed at the very least, I'll be stunned. I cannot allow you to come with us. Please, don't make me do something drastic. Forget what you have a right to, Detective. Think about your responsibilities. You have a responsibility to your partner to stay safe. How do you think he'll cope, if you're hurt… or killed, through putting yourself in danger unnecessarily?"

Alex's shoulders slumped.

"I understand. But please, at least let me watch from a distance? I need to see Salinger go down… for both my sake _and_ Bobby's. I _need _to, sir."

Adkins frowned, frustrated. They needed to get going, and he didn't have time to stand there arguing the point with her.

"All right," he conceded finally, hoping to God that he wasn't making a very big mistake. "All right, Detective. But whatever happens, you stay clear of everything. Do you understand me? Do not place yourself in the line of fire, not for any reason."

Alex nodded breathlessly.

"Yes sir, I understand."

Adkins nodded grimly.

"Okay. Let's do this."

* * *

Deakins followed the medics bearing the stretcher, his gaze focused on the shape of the body beneath the white sheet. He was supposed to be acting grief-stricken, working under the assumption that Salinger was somewhere close by, watching their performance. It wasn't hard to do. Staring at the body on the stretcher, it wasn't at all hard to imagine that Bobby was, indeed, dead beneath that white covering. In fact, it was disturbingly easy.

Of course, they weren't out of the woods yet… pardon the bad pun… and one mistake on their part could quite conceivably result in both Bobby and Alex paying the ultimate price. Because regardless of how many potential targets they were offering up right at that moment, there were only two that Salinger was interested in, and that was Bobby Goren and Alex Eames.

Deakins came to a halt and watched silently as the medics load the stretcher into the rescue chopper and secure it carefully. How, he wondered dimly, had it come to this? How had someone like Salinger – a man who was supposed to be a respected police officer – allowed himself to harbour such a deep-seated hatred for two detectives who had done nothing at all to deserve it? And how was it that Bobby and Alex could be so unfortunate to suffer similar assaults on their beings three times over?

Third time's the charm, he thought insanely as the medics assisted him in climbing into the chopper. Perhaps when this was over, then recovery might be able to truly begin for them both. God, he hoped that would be the case.

He recalled with a gut-wrenching sensation the brief conversation he'd had with Bobby before they'd put their plan into action. Salinger had busted his leg again, and now Bobby was genuinely afraid that the damage would be permanent. As much as he wanted to offer reassurance, Deakins had a horrible feeling that the detective's fears were justified this time. He'd been incredibly lucky in Denton, but the chances of a full recovery now were slim at best.

Deakins didn't blame Bobby for his anxieties. They both knew only too well that if the damage to his leg became permanent and irreparable, it would effectively put an end to his career with the NYPD. And right then, that possibility had seemed closer than it ever had before.

He hadn't had much of an opportunity to say anything much at all, though. Adkins had come over at that point and laid a hand gently on Bobby's shoulder as the medics carefully secured a brace onto his busted leg, and quietly told him not to worry about the future, _or_ his career, that everything was in hand. Neither he nor Bobby had had the chance to wonder what Adkins might mean by that. The Commissioner had given the go-ahead to move out, and the plan to lure out and trap Salinger had begun.

He sat down carefully in one of the seats that lined the wall of the chopper, his gaze fixed on the motionless body on the stretcher. Considering the circumstances, Deakins was quietly impressed with how still he was keeping. It couldn't be easy at all to do.

"We're going back for Detective Eames now," one of the medics told him. "When we get back, we'll head straight for New York City."

Deakins nodded in wordless appreciation. He watched the medics exit the chopper and hurry across the grass, disappearing into the line of trees. Now, he thought grimly, all he could do was wait.

* * *

Salinger watched as the medics jogged back into the trees, most likely to go and get Detective Eames. It was all clear now. The only person in the chopper was Deakins, and one of the three medics, and Salinger didn't regard either as being a threat. He knew, of course, that he should simply disappear, but a deeper part of him demanded proof that Goren was, indeed, dead. Seeing really was believing, Salinger mused grimly, and he needed to see the detective's lifeless body on that stretcher.

Just two minutes was all he needed, only two.

Heart pounding in his chest, Salinger left the safety of the trees and darted across the grass to the waiting chopper.

* * *

Deakins sat back a little, his eyes sliding shut almost before he was aware of it. The biggest problem with his own injuries was the ease with which he became exhausted. It was no surprise to him that he was fighting to stay awake now. With considerable effort, Deakins forced his eyes open again. He had to stay alert, at least until Salinger was caught.

Deakins froze, snapped painfully back into awareness, as he pushed his tired eyes open to find himself almost nose to muzzle with a gun.

"Sleeping on the job," Salinger said softly, his eyes dark with hatred. "That's worth a black mark on your record, Captain."

Deakins swallowed hard.

"You son of a bitch…"

It wasn't hard to put real vehemence into his voice. Salinger laughed softly.

"Yes, I know. I am, aren't I?"

"What the hell do you want?" Deakins growled. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Strangely enough, I think I have. Don't worry, Deakins. I said I'd let Eames live if the shotgun did its job. I just thought I'd like to see for myself." He stepped back, inclined his head towards the body on the stretcher. "Pull back the sheet. I want to see his lifeless face."

Deakins sat back slowly, his expression hard and angry.

"Pull it back yourself, asshole."

Salinger stared at him for a long moment, a slight twitch in his cheek the only sign of how near he was to the edge. Then, finally, he smirked.

"Okay. Fine. I'll do it myself. But first, take the clip out of your gun and toss it aside."

Scowling, but knowing he had no choice, Deakins did as he was ordered, removing his gun from its clip on his belt and tossing it aside once he'd removed the ammunition clip. Salinger nodded.

"Now the other one."

Deakins stared at him for a long moment before cursing silently and reaching around behind him for the second gun that he had tucked into a holster at his back. Salinger nodded again in satisfaction.

"Very good. Very cooperative. Now, are you sure you don't want to pull back that sheet yourself?"

"I told you," Deakins growled. "Do it yourself, you piece of shit."

Salinger laughed softly, and turned away from Deakins, to the stretcher.

"How does it feel, Deakins? Knowing you'll be going home to plan a funeral. Going to make it a big state affair? And what about his poor mother? How are you going to break the news to her? Oh, that's right. She's a mental case, isn't she? She probably won't even know her precious son is dead."

Deakins sat rigidly in his seat, fighting to contain his rage at the callous comment. Salinger stood silently, staring down at the sheet-covered body with open eagerness. Finally, grinning with anticipation, Salinger grabbed the corner of the sheet and yanked it back.

"Hello, asshole," Mike Logan said with a cold smile, barely suppressing his delight at the stunned expression on Salinger's face. Logan sat up slowly, lifting his gun smoothly and pressing it firmly against Salinger's forehead. "You're under arrest for kidnap and the attempted murder of a police officer. Now drop the gun, you fucking bastard, or I swear to God I'll put a bullet right between your pretty blue eyes."

Salinger's face went stormy with anger.

"He's not dead."

"Bingo, shithead," Logan confirmed. "Drop the gun. Now."

"She did it, didn't she?" Salinger asked, his voice dropping to an angry hiss. "His bitch of a partner. Somehow, she saved him."

"I said, drop the damn gun," Logan repeated tonelessly.

Salinger let the gun drop. An instant later, the medic abandoned the shadows where he'd been waiting, and darted in, grabbing Salinger's wrists and pulling them behind his back in preparation for handcuffing him.

"Thanks, Fin," Logan said with a wry smile. "My legs were starting to cramp up."

Fin smirked as he reached for the handcuffs that Deakins was holding out to him.

"No problem. Gary Salinger, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you don't say may be held against if you later rely on it in court. You have the right to a defence attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. You…"

Fin never got anything more out. As he started to slip the cuffs onto Salinger's wrists, the Chief of Detectives suddenly wrenched free from his grip. At the same time he swung a fist around and collided it with the side of Logan's head, sending the detective crashing to the floor of the chopper, stunned beyond response.

Salinger turned on Fin, snarling with fury, and slammed his knee into the detective's groin, effectively disabling him. Divesting Fin of his gun, Salinger swung the weapon around at the same moment that Deakins pulled out a third gun that he had tucked away in the inside pocket of his coat, and both men fired at the same instant.

Deakins felt the hot pressure of a bullet striking his right shoulder long before he felt any pain. Even as he staggered back, and collapsed back into the seat, he felt some small relief to see Salinger fall backwards, he himself struck by a bullet just below his sternum. His relief was short-lived, though, as Salinger pulled himself up and, with a last enraged glare at Deakins, dropped out of the chopper to the ground, and stumbled off towards the trees.

He tried to rouse himself to no avail, and could only watch helplessly as Logan and Fin tried to stir themselves to go after Salinger. They were still trying to get up when Adkins appeared at the open door of the chopper.

"What the hell went wrong?"

"Salinger got away," Fin mumbled, his face grey from the below-the-belt blow.

"That's damned obvious," Adkins growled. "Jim? Is it bad?"

"I'll be okay," Deakins answered hoarsely. "Go after Salinger."

"Fin?" Adkins asked, even as he began retreating from the chopper. "Can you manage?"

Fin grimaced as he hauled himself to his feet and collected one of Deakins' discarded guns from the floor of the chopper.

"I'm with you, sir."

"Logan…" Adkins said, then shook his head as the detective collapsed back onto the floor of the chopper, too dazed to move. "Stay here. Fin, let's go."

They were just moving away from the chopper when a scream split the air, just audible over the slow turn of the rotor blades.

"Was that…?" Fin started to ask. Adkins broke into a run towards the trees.

"C'mon, let's move!"

* * *

Alex scowled as Adkins, Elliot and Olivia moved away, leaving her hidden in the relative safety of the trees. She'd dared not protest, though. It had been hard enough talking Adkins into letting her go this far. So she watched and waited, her heart in her throat as Salinger appeared, emerging from the trees and crossing the grass to the chopper.

Where, she wondered as Salinger climbed into the chopper, was Adkins? He, Olivia, Elliot and Bishop should have started moving in immediately, but they were nowhere in sight.

Less than a minute passed that felt much longer to Alex, when the sound of two gunshots split the otherwise silent air. A moment later, Salinger climbed… almost fell… out of the chopper and staggered away towards the trees. He'd just vanished from sight when Adkins suddenly emerged and ran towards the chopper.

Alex reached instinctively for her gun before she remembered she didn't have it with her. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, frowning deeply. She didn't dare risk trying to corner Salinger herself, not alone and most certainly not without a weapon, but she had to do something. Something had gone horribly wrong, that much was certain. And now the question was, where had Salinger disappeared to?

Her heart leapt into her throat as the logical answer came to mind. He was going back to kill Bobby…

She wheeled around to run back to the cabin, only to grunt in pain and shock as she slammed full force into Salinger.

"I warned you," he whispered as his hands spun her around and he pinned her arms to her sides with brutal force. "You should have let him die, you stupid little bitch."

Alex did the only thing she could in the seconds before Salinger clamped his hand over her mouth and dragged her away. She opened her mouth and lungs, and screamed.

* * *

Ensconced safety in the cabin, Bobby was almost falling asleep where he lay on the narrow bed, his leg braced by the medics before they commenced the ruse of carrying Logan out to the chopper. He was thrown very abruptly back into awareness by the echoes of a scream.

"What the hell…?" Munch growled, moving away from the window.

"What is it?" Bobby asked, trying to push himself up. Munch didn't answer to start with, standing just inside the doorway and looking out, weapon drawn and ready to use. A moment later, his radio crackled to life.

"_Munch!_"

"Fin?" Munch asked, answering the call quickly. "What the hell is going on?"

"_It's Salinger. He shot Deakins, took down me and Logan, and he's bolted._"

"Who screamed?"

There was just a brief moment of silence before Fin answered.

"_It was Eames. Salinger has her. We need you out here, now. Elliot and the medics are on their way back to the cabin for Goren and Brenner. They'll get them to the chopper. They should be there in a couple of minutes. Don't wait for them. We don't have the time._"

Munch looked back at Bobby, making every effort not to cringe at the horrified look on the other detective's face.

"He… He has Alex…? Salinger has Alex?"

"We'll stop him, Goren," Munch promised quietly. Then he was gone.

Bobby stared at the space where Munch had been standing only a moment before. He remained frozen for only a few seconds before pushing himself up and, with more than a little difficulty, got to his feet.

Brenner watched, wide-eyed, as Bobby limped across the floor, his expression set in stone as he fought with every ounce of strength he had to ignore the ferocious pain in his damaged leg. Bobby came to a halt in front of him and, without hesitation, yanked the gag out of Brenner's mouth.

"Where's he taking her?"

Brenner's face contorted with anger.

"Go fuck yourself, asshole."

A moment later, Brenner's head rocked violently to the side as Bobby back-handed him hard across the face.

"You son of a bitch…" Brenner gasped, tasting blood in his mouth.

"Don't make me hit you again," Bobby said coldly. "If you do, I'll have to hit you hard. Now, where is he taking her?"

"I don't know," Brenner growled. His cry of pain ripped through the air as Bobby punched him full in the face, breaking the lieutenant's nose with a resounding crunch.

"Am I going to have to ask you again?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice. Brenner made a gagging sound, and a moment later spat out a bloodied tooth.

"You shit…"

Bobby drew back his fist to hit him a third time, and Brenner cringed away.

"No! Please…"

"Answer me!" Bobby exploded.

"The ravine!" Brenner choked out, his eyes squeezed shut as he anticipated another punch. The sound of floorboards creaking loudly reached his ears, and he opened his eyes slowly, looking around in dim amazement.

Bobby was gone.

* * *

Elliot climbed up the steps of the cabin, limping heavily and favouring his sore leg. He was quietly grateful that Adkins had ordered him to accompany the medics back to the cabin to get Bobby and Brenner. God knew he couldn't go as fast as the others, and as much as he liked to think he could keep up, he knew the reality of his situation. And the reality was that he couldn't keep up with them, and his colleagues couldn't afford to be worried about him falling behind.

He swallowed back a groan as he entered the cabin. Munch was never going to let him live this one down and, more than likely, neither would Fin or Olivia.

He limped into the cabin, and froze just inside the doorway, his heart rate sky-rocketing. Brenner was right where he should be, still handcuffed to the chair, albeit no longer gagged, but Bobby… Elliot sucked in a long breath that did precious little to calm him. Bobby Goren was nowhere in sight.

For several seconds, Elliot didn't move. He stood still and silent as his mind raced through possible scenarios. He didn't think it was likely that Salinger had taken the big detective. There was no way he would have had enough time to come back for Bobby after grabbing Alex in the woods. But the man also had a broken leg, so it was almost inconceivable to think that he had gotten up and walked away on his own. So where the hell was he…?

Finally, Elliot shook himself back to reality and approached Brenner. He noted the man's bruised and bloodied face with mild interest. He had no doubt who was responsible for this, and it seemed that the great Bobby Goren, amateur shrink extraordinaire, was not above slapping around a suspect after all; at least, not where the welfare of his partner was concerned.

"Where did he go?" Elliot asked quietly. Brenner glared at him, and spat out blood with his angry reply.

"Go to hell."

Elliot leaned right in close, and spoke in barely more than a whisper.

"Are you going to make me hit you, too? Because if you are, I guarantee I'll hit you a hell of a lot harder than Bobby Goren did."

Brenner cringed, fear in his eyes. The truth was, Bobby's second punch had felt like a sledgehammer on his face. He had no desire to find out if Elliot was exaggerating about his ability… and his willingness… to hit harder than the big detective.

"He… He wanted to know where Salinger was taking his partner."

"And where was that?"

"The ravine," Brenner moaned. "Salinger said if the shotgun didn't work, he was going to grab Eames and take her to the ravine."

Elliot sucked in his breath sharply as the puzzles pieces began to drop into place.

"He knew Goren would follow if he took Eames."

"That's right," Brenner confirmed. "He's going to kill them both."

"The hell he is," Elliot snarled as he switched on his radio. "Come in, Commissioner."

"_What is it, Stabler?_" Adkins' voice came back, crackling over the radio speaker.

"Sir, Salinger's heading for the ravine. Goren's gone after him."

"_He what?_" Adkins exploded. "_How in the name of God can he even walk?_"

"With respect, Commissioner," Elliot answered grimly, "Salinger has Eames. Goren would have to be paralysed from the neck down to stop him from following them."

"_You're probably right about that,_" Adkins conceded. "_Damn it… Okay, get Brenner back to the chopper. Make sure those medics get back there, too. Deakins and Logan both need medical attention._"

"Yes, sir. And you…?"

"_We're going after Salinger._"

* * *

_tbc..._


	17. Final Confrontations

* * *

Alex barely had a chance to catch her breath as Salinger dragged her along. She knew she should have fought him, should have at least tried to get away, but her head was throbbing painfully from the buckshot, and she just couldn't seem to think clearly.

She felt Salinger's grip loosen on her just briefly as he paused just briefly to look back. Alex took the opportunity, and tried to twist away from him, only to cry out in pain and shock as he jerked her roughly back towards him. Then, spinning her around so fast it made her head spin, he slammed her into a nearby tree hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

"Don't try that again," Salinger hissed. Alex glared balefully at him.

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

He leaned in so that their faces were barely inches apart.

"Or I'll kill you right now, you smart-mouthed little bitch. So if you want one last chance to see your boyfriend before you meet your maker, I suggest you cooperate. Now, move!"

He propelled her onwards, and she went without further protest, if only because she was clinging to the hope that a miracle might yet happen to save both Bobby and herself.

* * *

Bobby moved slowly, painfully, clinging desperately to each tree that he passed for much-needed support to stay upright. He knew almost instinctively where he was going, though if anyone had asked, he wouldn't have been able to explain it. All the same, despite having trodden this path only once before, and in the dead of night, he found his way through the trees with disturbing ease.

He was sure he could hear movement both ahead of and behind him. It had to be Salinger who was ahead, while Adkins and the others were coming up behind him. Led, he assumed, by Bishop. With the exception of Logan and Deakins, both of whom were apparently incapacitated, Bishop was the only one who had been this way before, and she was the only one who would have had any reasonable idea of how to get to the ravine.

He paused for a just a brief respite, both to catch his breath and to try and turn his focus onto the task at hand. The fiery pain he was in threatened to consume him, but he pushed it away, locked it down within his mind. He had no time now to feel pain.

Not too far ahead of him, his sensitive hearing caught the sound of a female cry, followed rapidly by a harsh male response. No words were intelligible, but it was clear enough to him what was happening. Clenching his jaw and placing his focus solely on the mental image of his partner, Bobby pushed onward.

* * *

"Did anyone else hear that?" Olivia asked suddenly, bringing the team to a halt as they made their way through the trees. Adkins looked over at her, a hint of impatience starting to show in his features.

"Hear what, Detective Benson?"

"I heard it, too," Fin said tensely. "Someone cried out." He pointed away from them. "It came from that direction."

Adkins stood frozen for several seconds, debating what to do.

"All right," he said finally. "Let's go."

They moved on, hurrying in the direction that the cry had come from.

* * *

Alex gasped as they almost fell out of the clearing, and onto the narrow path that led alongside the ravine. She had vague memories of this from the night she and Bobby had fled Mathers' cabin. She remembered that Bobby had been carrying her at the time, because she'd been wounded by an arrow. Now, they were being threatened by a different assailant, but one no less deadly.

Salinger propelled her along the edge of the ravine, threatening to simply push her over should she dare to fight him. Somewhere not too far behind them, Alex heard the sound of someone coming through the trees. She didn't know who it was. She could only pray vehemently that it wasn't Bobby.

She knew better, though.

They reached the end of the path, and Alex suddenly found herself standing on the edge of the very same drop that had left her with a nearly-crushed arm, and Bobby with two broken legs. In the broad daylight, she stared over the edge and the drop below, and felt her stomach churn as she realised just how miraculous an escape they had really had. The fall should have killed them both, and yet somehow they'd managed to walk away from it… more or less.

"That's right, Detective," Salinger hissed into her ear. "Your luck's just run out. You won't escape death this time, not you or your ape of a partner."

"You son of a bitch," Alex whispered, tears of pure anger filling her eyes. Salinger gave a short, callous laugh.

"I know. It shouldn't have had to come to this, but you only have yourselves to blame."

"Us?" Alex choked out incredulously. "For what? That you're a psychotic bastard?"

Her head rocked to the side as he slapped her hard across the face.

"Watch your mouth, you little cow." He looked around at the sound of someone approaching, and smirked widely. "Here comes your boyfriend now to defend you."

As if on cue, Bobby emerged through the trees, and came to a halt just a little over an arm's length away from the two of them, his gaze going from Alex to Salinger. His face was deadly pale and lathered in sweat, and it was clearly a struggle for him to stay upright, but the look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated fury.

"Let her go," Bobby said softly. Salinger grinned cruelly.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Detective Goren."

Salinger started to move away from Alex. Bobby's relief was short-lived, though, when Salinger suddenly turn back, grabbed her by the arms and pushed her out over the edge of the drop. Alex screamed as the ground threatened to fall away beneath her and, suddenly, the only thing keeping her from toppling all the way over the edge of the precipice and plunging to the river far below was Salinger.

"_No_!" Bobby yelled, torn between wanting to run at Salinger and not wanting to do anything to provoke him.

"That's right, Detective Goren," Salinger growled. "Just stay right where you are."

"What the _fuck_ do you want from us?" Bobby exploded. Salinger smirked at him.

"Your heads, on individual gold platters. But I understand that's probably asking for a bit much, so I'll just have to be satisfied with seeing your dead bodies at the bottom of this ravine."

"Fuck you," Alex gasped. Salinger gave her a vicious shake.

"You're in no position to mouth off to me, Detective Eames."

"Then let me," Bobby snarled. "Fuck you, Salinger! If we die here and now, I swear to God I'm going to take you with us."

"An admirable sentiment," Salinger sneered. "Highly unlikely, though. I'm going to give you one last chance, Detective Goren. One last chance to keep your pretty partner here alive. You blow this, and you both die. I guarantee it."

"What do you want?" Bobby asked again hoarsely. Salinger nodded towards the edge of the ravine.

"Jump."

"What?" Bobby asked, dazed and angry.

"Jump," Salinger repeated. "Over the edge. Step off and let yourself fall. You do that, right now, and I'll let her go."

Bobby's eyes darkened.

"Yeah. I bet you will."

Salinger glanced at Alex, who he still held at arm's length over the edge of the ravine, then jerked her back to the safety of solid ground. Before she had a chance to fight him, though, he pulled her around, pinning her arms at her sides and producing a knife, which he shoved up underneath her jaw.

"Refuse, and I'll cut her throat open so wide, she'll bleed out before she hits the ground. And then, I promise you'll go over anyway. Your choice, Detective. Die now and save her life, or wait, and watch her die before you join her. What's it going to be?"

"Bobby, don't," Alex choked out, but her words turned into a strangled cry of pain as the blade cut into her throat, drawing blood.

"Shut up," Salinger hissed. "It's his decision. Keep your fucking mouth shut."

Bobby stared at Alex, helpless. The last thing he wanted to do was willingly step off, into the ravine, but Salinger offered him no alternative, and he was even less willing to stand there and watch the psychotic son of a bitch cut Alex's throat.

"You're running out of time, Detective," Salinger warned him. "Hurry up. Make up your mind."

Bobby turned to look out over the precipice, and the long drop below. If he stepped off right there, he'd go into the river below. He survived it once, surely he had a good chance to surviving it again…?

But he knew the chances of surviving a second fall were slim, if not impossible. That first time had been a pure fluke, nothing more. In the end, he didn't know what pained him more – watching Alex die in front of him, or the idea of her having to watch him die. And then, even if he did do as Salinger demanded and stepped off into the ravine, he had no guarantee that Salinger would release Alex. In fact, he realised he didn't trust the son of a bitch at all to keep his word.

He looked back at Salinger.

"Let her go."

Salinger nodded.

"Sure. As soon as you jump."

"No. Now. You let her go now, and I'll do what you say."

Salinger's eyes narrowed.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You're the psycho, remember?" Bobby shot back. Salinger stood frozen for several seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"Okay. Fine. If I'm the psycho who can't trusted, then maybe I should just push this little bitch off the edge right now, hmm?"

Before Bobby had a chance to respond, the trees and bushes suddenly rustled violently, and Adkins burst into the open, followed closely by Bishop, Fin, Olivia and Munch. All five officers reacted fast, drawing their weapons and aiming them at the demented cop.

"You want to walk away from this alive, Gary," Adkins said in a low voice, "then let her go. It's over."

Salinger looked over at Bobby, who had taken a cautionary step away from the edge of the precipice. Anger flashed across his face as his rage finally bubbled over.

"Okay. I'll let her go."

"Gary, don't you do it…" Adkins growled in warning.

"I'll let her go right now!" Salinger roared, and swung Alex back around towards the edge of the drop.

In that moment, several things happened at once and, when questioned later on, none of them would have a clear memory of exactly what happened.

At the moment when Salinger started to turn towards the cliff's edge, Munch strode forward and landed a punch to Salinger's jaw. Taking advantage of the split second when Salinger reeled from the unexpected blow, Olivia darted forward and grabbed Alex, yanking her unceremoniously away from Salinger and pulling her to safety.

With an angry snarl, Salinger staggered forward, lunging towards Bobby, who staggered and fell heavily against the trunk of a nearby tree in a useless effort to get out of the way of the madman.

Adkins, Bishop and Fin all opened fire, but the multiple bullets hitting his body were not enough to stop Salinger's momentum. The man tumbled forwards, slamming into Bobby and bringing them both to the ground with a painful crash. Salinger hit the ground right on the edge of the precipice, and realised only too late where he was. He grabbed at Bobby in panic, and relief flooded his face briefly as Bobby grabbed him by the shirt in an iron grip just as he toppled over the edge of the cliff.

Salinger howled in terror and panic as he suddenly found himself dangling over the edge of a very big drop, with Bobby's strength the only thing keeping him from plummeting to his death.

"Pull me up," Salinger gasped, clutching at Bobby's wrists. "You have to pull me up…"

"Why?" Bobby asked tonelessly, and Salinger's eyes widened in horror as he realised the big detective was seriously contemplating just letting him drop.

"You… You let me go, and it's murder," Salinger rasped desperately.

"Self defence," Fin said icily as he came to stand just behind Bobby, making no move to help in any way. "That's what I'll testify to."

"Same," Bishop confirmed. Salinger looked up at Adkins who had come to stand beside Fin, his expression hard and angry.

"Gerry…" Salinger begged. "Make him pull me up!"

"Why?" Adkins asked bluntly. "You tried to kill him and Eames, Gary. You want us to pull you up, you'd better make a damned good argument for it. And, judging by the way Goren here is starting to weaken, I'd say you've got thirty seconds or less before he loses his grip on you."

Salinger drew in a ragged breath, and returned his gaze to Bobby's stony expression.

"You let me go, Goren, and you're no better than me. You know I'm right."

"This once," Bobby whispered. "Just this once… Do you really think I give a fuck?"

For a split second, the two men stared at each other, and in that moment Salinger saw his own death reflected in Bobby Goren's eyes. Salinger let one hand drop. If he was going to die, he was damn well going to take at least one of them with him.

Drawing his knife out of his pocket, Salinger slashed it around in an upwards arc.

"Bobby, look out!" Bishop yelled, seeing the glint of the metal blade in the sun in the instant before Salinger swung it.

Bobby saw the blade coming, and knew Salinger was aiming for his throat. Going against instinct, and rather than trying to lift himself out of the way, Bobby tucked his head in, protecting his throat. The blade caught him on the face instead, slicing open his right cheek in a parallel cut to the healing scar from his fight with David Graham.

Bobby cried out in pain, and his grip on Salinger slipped. The Chief of Detectives shrieked once as he plummeted down the wall of the ravine, and then he was gone, taken by the river.

"Bite on that one, you piece of shit," Fin called after him. Adkins threw Fin a rueful look, then crouched down beside Bobby.

"I wasn't going to drop him," Bobby gasped, cringing away as Bishop tried to get a closer look at the cut on his face. "I tried to hold on to him…"

"I know, Detective," Adkins reassured him as he and Munch helped Bobby to sit up. "You don't have to worry about IAB. I'll deal with them personally. Now, do you think you can make it back to the chopper?"

"Are you kidding?" Alex retorted in a strained voice as she stumbled over and dropped to the ground beside Bobby. "He once climbed a steep hill with two broken legs. He can do anything."

Bobby reached out tentatively, touching his fingers lightly to the cut on her throat. She caught his hand in her own, and gently pushed it away.

"It's a scratch," she told him when he frowned. "That's all. You've got more to worry about than I have."

Bobby stared at her for several long seconds before pulling her to him in a fierce hug, oblivious to the amused grins that surrounded them. Alex didn't object and, a moment later, found herself sobbing softly into his shoulder.

"Hey," Olivia murmured, reaching out to lay a hand gently on Alex's arm. "It's okay, guys. It's over."

"Okay?" Alex choked out, pulling back from Bobby and looking at Olivia incredulously. "He scared the shit out of me!" She looked back at Bobby and, before he could protest, punched him square in the chest. "You scared the crap out of me! I really thought you were going to do what he said. You jerk, don't you _ever_ do that to me again!"

Bobby smiled weakly, and pulled her back into his embrace, and she returned the hug with enthusiasm.

"It's over," Bobby whispered as they hugged each other ferociously. Adkins smiled faintly, then looked around at Fin.

"Go back to the chopper, have the medics come with a stretcher."

"No," Bobby protested. "I can walk…"

"The hell you can," Fin retorted. "I don't know how you got this far, but you cannot walk back to the chopper."

"Please," Bobby pleaded softly. "I need to be able to walk away from here. It's important." He looked up at Adkins, desperation in his eyes that Adkins could not bring himself to ignore.

"Okay," he conceded. "Fin, help me get him up."

Fin frowned, but didn't argue. Between himself and Adkins, they managed to get Bobby up off the ground, and now stood on either side of him, with his arms draped over their shoulders for support. Olivia helped Alex, holding a handkerchief to her throat to stem the flow of blood. Munch and Bishop hurried on ahead to alert the medics that they were coming.

"All right," Adkins murmured. "Let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

"How's the head?"

Logan glanced up at Deakins just briefly, then returned his attention to the captain's bullet wound.

"My head's fine. You, on the other hand, can look forward to a stay in hospital when we get home."

Deakins groaned softly.

"Why the hell didn't I just shoot the son of a bitch when I had the chance?"

"Uh… You _did_," Logan reminded him. "Fin and I are the ones who screwed up and let him give us the slip. Damn, I wish I knew what was happening."

Deakins started to shake his head when his gaze went to someone or something behind Logan. The detective looked around slowly, to avoid aggravating his sore head, and was just in time to see Elliot assisting a securely handcuffed Brenner into the chopper.

"Where's Bobby?" Deakins asked tensely as Elliot followed Brenner, struggling a little with his injured leg.

"He went after Salinger," Elliot answered. Deakins started forward, and was prevented from getting up only by Logan.

"He _what_? And you didn't stop him?"

"He was already gone from the cabin when I got there," Elliot answered patiently. "Don't know how he managed it, but he did."

"Damned idiot," Logan muttered. "He's gonna get himself killed."

"We have to do something," Deakins said, looking around for his guns.

"We are," Elliot said firmly. "We're waiting. Adkins' orders. None of us are in a fit state to help. We just have to wait. It's all we can do."

Deakins looked as though he wanted to protest, but in the end he collapsed back in his seat. He knew Elliot was right. All they could do was wait. There was nothing else they could do.

* * *

The sound of gunshots shattering the silence brought Deakins, Logan and Elliot to attention several minutes later. None of them moved, or spoke. They only watched and waited in tense silence, looking for some sign of what might have happened. Painful minutes passed before Logan finally stood up, wincing a little at the pain in his skull from the sudden movement.

"I'm going to find out what's going on."

"No need," Elliot said abruptly. "Look, over there. Isn't that Munch and Bishop?"

Logan and Deakins both looked, and sure enough, Munch and Bishop were coming across the grass towards the chopper, moving at a fast jog. Munch got there first, courtesy of his longer legs, and quickly pulled himself up into the chopper, then turned to help Bishop before saying a word.

"It's okay," Bishop said quickly, even as Deakins opened his mouth to ask what was happening. "They're okay."

"And Salinger?" Elliot asked softly.

"We assume he's dead," Munch said bluntly, "and if he's not, then he'll probably wish he was. Goren dropped him a good fifty or sixty feet straight down into shallow water and rocks."

"Goren dropped him…?" Deakins asked, dismayed by the news.

"Relax," Bishop assured him. "He didn't do it deliberately. He would have been able to pull him up, except Salinger got smart, and tried to slash his throat with a knife. He got Bobby on the face instead, and Bobby just couldn't hold on to him. We all saw it happen. No way will IAB be to come back at him over it, especially not with Commissioner Adkins to back him up."

"So where are they?" Logan asked. Munch indicated back over his shoulder, towards the trees.

"They're coming. Goren insisted he wanted to walk back to the chopper."

"Wonderful," Elliot said ruefully. "We'll probably be waiting another half hour for them. Stupid idiot…"

"Maybe not," Bishop murmured. "Check it out."

They all looked and, sure enough, the rest of the group were just emerging from the trees. Adkins and Fin were half-supporting, half-carrying Bobby, while Olivia supported Alex. All of them were smiling.

"Thank God," Deakins whispered. When they finally reached the chopper, Munch and Logan pulled Alex gently inside, while Adkins and Fin assisted Bobby onto the gurney that the medics had ready and waiting for him.

"Alex?" Deakins asked tentatively as one of the three medics secured her into the seat next to him. She looked around at him, and smiled weakly.

"We're good. Well, sort of. It's over. We can go home."

"We're all going home," Adkins announced firmly as the rest of the team climbed into the chopper. "This flying windmill is delivering all us back to New York City, via the express route."

"What about our things?" Bishop asked, frowning slightly.

"They'll be delivered back to you all courtesy of the Wolf River PD. Right now, our priority is getting home as quickly as possible so that those of you who need medical attention can get it."

"What about… Salinger?" Bobby asked breathlessly, wincing in pain as an air cast was fitted around his right leg.

Adkins stared at Bobby intently.

"What about him, Detective?"

"Don't… Don't assume he's dead," Bobby said hoarsely. "You have to find his body. He might have… survived."

"Survived _that_ fall?" Munch asked incredulously. "Are you kidding us? Who could have survived that?"

"We did," Alex said flatly, "from almost that exact same spot. Bobby's right. We can't just make assumptions. Assumptions have a nasty habit of coming back to bite you in the ass."

Adkins nodded.

"Point taken. I'll radio ahead and organise a search team to come up and look for the body. Until we find it, we'll assume Salinger's alive. Anything else we should be conscious of, Detectives?"

Bobby sighed faintly, finally relaxing as he was given a much-needed shot of morphine.

"No. Just… Just that."

Adkins smile wryly as he sank into one of the last empty seats and strapped himself in as the chopper finally lifted off the ground.

"Time to go home, people."

"Amen to that," Munch muttered. "Almost thought I was going to have to cancel my weekend plans after all."

"And here we thought you were looking forward to spending it with us," Elliot said sarcastically. Munch settled back and shut his eyes.

"In your dreams, Elliot."

Laughter rippled through the group just briefly before a comfortable silence fell as they all settled back for the journey home.

* * *

_tbc..._


	18. The End of the Road

_A/N: _So we have come to the end of the road, finally. I may feel inclined to add a post-script to this story (and I may write a new story down the track that exists in this particular 'verse), but as it stands, this is effectively the final chapter. Now, I will focus on _Blind Trust_, _Nightmare_, and I have an idea for a CI / Pretender cross-over that is itching to be written. Yes, folks, more Bobby-angst on the way.

_

* * *

_

_Some hours later  
St Clare's Hospital, NYC_

"Jim? Feeling up to having a visitor?"

Deakins looked up, and smiled wearily as Adkins came into his hospital room. The Commissioner smiled at Angie Deakins, who was standing by her husband's bedside.

"Angie, how are you?"

"Better, now that they're all home safely," she answered, accepting a kiss on the cheek from him. Adkins nodded his agreement.

"Definitely. I'm sorry I couldn't bring Jim home unscathed, though."

Her smile faded minutely.

"It's all right, Gerry. I guess you could say I'm starting to get used to it. And at least this isn't as bad as the last time. Now, I expect you'll both want to talk, so I'll take the opportunity to go and get some coffee. Excuse me."

Both men watched her go, and then Adkins looked sympathetically at Deakins.

"In the doghouse?"

"Almost was," Deakins admitted ruefully. "We've already talked, though. She's okay. We're okay."

It was all that needed to be said, and Adkins nodded in understanding.

"Good to hear. Now, how are you doing?"

"I'll be fine," Deakins answered dismissively. "The bullet didn't do any real damage. Salinger might have been a crack shot with a sniper gun, but apparently he's lousy at close range. I have to stay here for a couple of nights while they monitor for infection, but otherwise I'm fine. Do you know how the others are?"

"Well, Logan has a concussion… as you well know."

Deakins nodded, wincing a little at the memory of the blow to the head Logan had suffered at Salinger's hands.

"He's fine, though. Just needs a good night's rest, according to the doctor who saw him. Stabler's been admitted. That little rip in his leg turned septic somewhere along the line, and they want to run him on a full course of antibiotics before they discharge him. He's facing at least a week of mandatory bed rest. Ah… Eames… Now, she's got a fairly nasty concussion courtesy of the buckshot from that shotgun, and she lost a bit of blood from where Salinger cut her with his knife, but she's otherwise fine. Again, the main prescription is bed rest, and plenty of it. They'll be keeping her in for a couple of nights just to be sure, though. As for Goren…"

"It's not good, is it?" Deakins asked quietly when Adkins paused.

"As far as that leg of his is concerned," Adkins murmured, "no. It's not good news. I spoke to his doctor before Goren was taken in for surgery. Apparently they ran just about every scan and x-ray they could looking for any sign that it wasn't as bad as it appears to be, but his doctor wasn't hopeful. It doesn't look like he's going to recover from this one, Jim. It could be that he's always going to need some form of support to walk."

Deakins groaned softly.

"Damn Salinger. Damn him to hell. That's it, then. Bobby's finished with the Force."

"Just a second, Jim," Adkins argued. "I never said that."

Deakins looked up at him, puzzled.

"What are you saying? That you'll find him a desk job somewhere? That would kill him for sure, Commissioner."

Adkins smiled, then.

"I never mentioned anything about a desk job either, did I?"

"Then what…?"

"Well, I for one don't see any reason why he can't continue with the Major Case Squad. We make all kinds of exceptions for exceptional officers and detectives in order to keep them where they're at their most effective. It would be hugely detrimental to the city of New York to lose one of the best detective teams that the NYPD has to offer. Don't you think?"

Deakins let his breath out in a rush, hoping he didn't look as eager as he felt.

"It's a hell of a big exception to make, sir."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Would you say that Detective Goren's work has been impaired in the time since he returned to work after the Erik Mathers case?"

"Well, no, but…"

"And you believe he's fully capable of doing the job?"

"Yes, of course…"

"Then what's the problem, Jim? Because I sure as hell can't see one."

A grin broke out across Deakins' face.

"Thankyou, Commissioner."

"Don't thank me, Jim. I'm just acting in the interests of the people of New York. Yes, I know that sounds pompous, but it'll get the political leeches off my back. Our biggest issue now is making sure that Detective Goren still believes he can make a valid and valuable contribution."

Deakins smiled tentatively.

"I'm hoping Alex will be able to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, like quit."

"You don't sound so certain," Adkins commented, and Deakins sighed softly.

"I'm trying to be, but I just don't know. I sometimes think Bobby would probably walk off the roof of the Empire State Building if it was Alex who suggested it, but with this? I'm not so sure. I want to believe that Bobby can overcome this, _if_ it becomes a permanent disability… and God knows, he's the most bull-headed man I've ever had the privilege to know, but this might be too much… even for him."

"We'll work it out, Jim," Adkins promised him quietly. "Just make me one promise?"

"What's that?"

"If he tries to submit a resignation to you, don't accept it."

Deakins smiled wearily.

"That wouldn't stop him. He'd just go over my head."

"Considering that the next stop after you is me, at least until a new COD is appointed, how far do you think he'll get?"

Deakins chuckled.

"Okay. Fine. I'll do my best to stop him in his tracks if he tries to do that."

"Good," Adkins murmured, satisfied. "Now, maybe you can answer something else for me, Jim."

"I can try."

"What is it, exactly, that's going on between Goren and Eames? They're not sleeping together, are they?"

"You've been wondering about that since seeing the motel room, haven't you?"

"Honestly? Yes, it's been bugging the hell out of me. _Are_ they sleeping together?"

"Not in the biblical sense," Deakins answered with an amused grin on his face. "The truth is, sir, they _are _sleeping together, but that's all it is. They sleep."

"So you already knew about it."

It wasn't a question, and Deakins nodded, smiling sheepishly.

"Since Denton. I caught them out by accident. They told me it was the only way they were able to sleep, and not have nightmares."

"And you believe that?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Then I don't need to know anything more about it. If you're satisfied that their partnership is good and healthy, then I'm satisfied. Okay?"

Deakins nodded, more relieved than he cared to let the Commissioner see.

"Yes, sir. Thankyou."

Adkins grinned, and sank into the chair next to Deakins' bed.

"Okay. Now, let's talk about how we can convince Detective Goren that he still has plenty to offer to the NYPD…"

* * *

"Alex?"

Alex looked around, and smiled wearily from her hospital bed as Olivia walked in.

"Hey, 'Liv."

"How are you feeling?"

"Been better, been worse. Did you just come from seeing Elliot?"

Olivia smiled and nodded.

"Mm. He's being a typical male, begging for attention. Problem is, I tend to give in more often than not."

Alex laughed softly.

"Bobby's the same… although, he's not always so obvious about it."

Olivia hesitated, then spoke carefully.

"I thought you might like to know, they found Salinger's body."

Alex raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"That was fast."

"Well, apparently the river was still running fast from a flood they'd had a few weeks back. His body washed up about five miles east of Wolf River. It's being flown back to New York for formal identification."

Alex sighed softly.

"Then we can finally put this whole damned saga behind us."

Olivia paused, and then sat down in the chair by the bedside.

"How are you feeling… _really_?"

"Honestly?" Alex asked softly. "Pretty drained, actually. I still can't believe it happened to us again. I never thought we'd get caught out like that again."

"You're not omniscient, Alex. You couldn't have known."

"That's just it, though," Alex argued. "We _did_ know, Olivia."

"What are you talking about?"

That night… It was only last night, wasn't it? Or was it the night before…? Damn, I've lost all track of time…"

"Don't worry about it," Olivia murmured. "Now, how could you have known?"

"Before you and Elliot told us at the motel that the little girl was missing, we had a phone call from Deakins and Commissioner Adkins. They warned us about Salinger. They told us they thought he was headed our way, and if he turned up, to make sure we didn't get caught alone with him. But that's exactly what we did. I was stupid, Olivia. I made so many mistakes, and they nearly got us both killed."

"Alex, don't do this to yourself," Olivia murmured. "It wasn't your fault, honey."

Alex stared up at the ceiling, tears welling up in her eyes and effectively blinding her.

"Salinger demanded I meet him outside the room. He knew he couldn't take us out if we were together, and I played right into his hands. I was so damned stupid…"

"Don't, Alex," Olivia said, her voice taking on a slight edge. "Don't start second-guessing everything now. You're both here, and alive. Isn't that what counts?"

Alex bit down on her lower lip as her mind went to the sight of Bobby's swollen, damaged leg.

"Yeah," she said softly, her voice starting to tremble slightly, "I guess so…"

"What is it?" Olivia asked softly. "What is it that you're really worried about?"

Alex looked away, trying to get her thoughts in order. It was a good two or three minutes later before she was ready to speak, and she looked back slowly, half-expecting to find Olivia had gotten impatient and walked out. But no, the SVU detective still sat by the bed, watching and waiting patiently until she was ready to answer.

"After the first time… when we were in hospital after being rescued… Bobby's doctor told him that if his leg was badly injured again… or broken again… that he'd never fully recover from it. When David Graham broke his leg in Denton, we though that was it, then, but he was lucky, and the damage wasn't as bad as we'd thought. But this time… He's not going to be lucky like that again."

Finally, Olivia understood.

"You're scared he'll be forced to retire on a disability."

"What else can he do?" Alex choked out. "If the damage is permanent, he won't have a choice. They'll never let him stay on if he's been crippled. But I can't be without him, Olivia. I can't work without him."

"Can I ask you something, Alex?" Olivia asked quietly, and went on without waiting for Alex to respond. "Do you love him?"

Alex looked at Olivia, taken aback by the unexpected question.

"What?"

"Do you love him? It's a simple enough question."

Still Alex hesitated, staring at Olivia uncertainly. The other woman smiled reassuringly at her.

"I'm not trying to trick you, Alex. I just want you to answer me honestly."

Alex stared at her hands for a long while before answering softly.

"He's my best friend, Olivia. He saved my life…"

"And you saved his. Neither of you owes the other anything."

When Alex still didn't answer, though, Olivia decided that perhaps she'd better elaborate. "I'm not asking if you're _in love_ with him, Alex. I'm just asking, _do you love him_?"

Tears spilled down Alex's cheeks, and she answered with one word, in a small but firm voice.

"Yes."

Olivia reached over and grasped her hands gently.

"Then even if Bobby can't continue in the NYPD, you're never going to be without him. As for working without him… Nothing ever stays that same, Alex. You know that as well as anyone. Sooner or later there's going to come a time when one or both of you is going to move on from Major Case, and then you'll find you have to learn to work with someone new."

Alex slumped back in the bed, blinded by her tears.

"I just don't know what's going to happen, Olivia."

"None of us do," Olivia murmured. "But don't lie here making assumptions, either. Let's just wait and see, okay? Don't forget, the one person who really wanted Bobby gone from the NYPD was Salinger, and he's dead. You know Deakins and Adkins will both fight for him. You saw that with your own eyes. Even if it turns out that Bobby _is_ crippled, I wouldn't put it past them to find some way to keep him on board."

"He won't take a desk job," Alex said, rubbing miserably at her eyes.

"I doubt they'd expect him to," Olivia said with a wry smile.

"How, then?" Alex asked plaintively. She knew how she must sound to Olivia, and right then she didn't give a damn. All she could think about was Bobby. "How can they let him stay? If he's never able to walk again properly…"

"Hey, listen to you!" Olivia cut in incredulously. "I can't believe how negative you're being! Alex, do you even know for certain what the prognosis for Bobby is?"

"Well, no, but…"

"But nothing! You don't know, and neither does anyone else. End of story. You are doing yourself _and_ Bobby a huge disservice, Alex. I really think you need to stop worrying about what's going to happen. Leave that to Captain Deakins and Commissioner Adkins."

Alex watched her miserably.

"I'm scared, Olivia."

Olivia squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"I know. It's always frightening when you're facing the unknown, but you have to have a little bit of faith. Trust in everyone around you now. It's going to be all right."

Alex shut her eyes, but it didn't stop the tears. She wanted to believe Olivia. She really did, but faced with the possibility of losing the best partner she had ever had, she just couldn't quite bring herself to hope.

* * *

Commissioner Adkins emerged into the waiting room to find not only Logan, Bishop, Fin and Munch waiting for him, but Don Cragen as well. Adkins approached the small group slowly, his gaze going to Logan.

"What are you still doing here, Logan? Weren't you told to go home?"

"I'm fine, sir," Logan protested. Adkins looked sceptical.

"Weren't the words your doctor used something like 'Go home, or I'll admit you and I promise you'll be dining on hospital food for the next week'?"

Logan grimaced at the thought.

"I just want to know how they all are. Then I'll go home. Believe me, sir, I'm looking forward to it. But I can't go until I know they're all okay."

Adkins conceded with a nod, and sat down.

"Fair enough. Well, Stabler has a fairly nasty infection that will keep him in here for at least a week…"

"He's going to hate that," Cragen said with a wry smile. Adkins nodded

"Yes, well, he doesn't have a choice. Perhaps next time he'll think twice before practising the hurdles over wire fences."

"What about Captain Deakins?" Bishop asked.

"Deakins is going to be fine," Adkins assured them. "The bullet went straight through without doing any serious damage. He should be able to go home in two or three days. They're keeping Eames in for a couple of days to monitor her, but she is going to be okay."

"And what about Bobby?" Fin asked when Adkins hesitated.

"He's still in surgery," Adkins answered quietly. "We won't know what the outlook is for him for a while yet."

"It's not good, is it?" Cragen asked grimly. A very soft sigh escaped Adkins' lips.

"It could be better, but I really think we need to just wait and see before passing final judgements. All right?"

"Commissioner," Bishop spoke up, "you're not going to kick Goren off the Force, are you? Because after everything that's happened, that wouldn't be fair."

Adkins regarded her bemusedly.

"There's a lot in life that isn't fair, Detective."

"She's right, though," Logan said. "Just because Goren might not be able to walk properly doesn't mean he can't do the job. He's already proved that he can."

"I'll say he can," Munch retorted. Several pairs of eyes looked to him in open amusement, and the detective reddened, but explained himself despite his embarrassment. "Forget that they didn't want to go anywhere in sight of that mountain. Goren and Eames took on the job that none of us wanted. They read through all the reports, and all the statements, and in the end it was them who identified the killer. Goren profiled him, and then they identified him. If they hadn't gone up there with us, I think we'd probably still be up there. Don't get me wrong, we would have solved it ourselves… but it would have taken a lot longer."

Bishop, Logan and Fin all nodded in wordless agreement.

"You split up Bobby Goren and Alex Eames," Fin said heatedly, "and the NYPD will be losing one of the best partnerships that it has."

Adkins looked from Fin to Munch, and then across to Logan and Bishop.

"You all feel that way?"

"I think you could say it's a unanimous consensus," Bishop answered calmly, and a wry smile crossed Adkins' face.

"I see. Well, you can relax, all of you. I have no intention of getting rid of Detective Goren, and I'm well aware of the fact that it would be highly detrimental to separate him from Detective Eames. I'm very much aware of how effective they are together, and I don't want to see that end anymore than anyone else here."

A murmur of relief swept through the group, and Cragen coughed loudly to make himself heard.

"I hate to be the one to rain on your parade, but how can he possibly stay with the NYPD if the damage to his leg can't be healed? I think I know Goren well enough to know that he won't be satisfied with a desk job."

"Like Logan said," Adkins said with a small smile, "Goren has already proven that he can still do the job. But let's not go leaping to conclusions yet, people. He's not even out of surgery yet, so let's just wait and see."

* * *

_Some hours later_

Bobby awoke slowly, to a stomach-turning combination of dizziness, nausea and pain. He tried opening his eyes in an effort to re-orient himself, but the assault of bright light on his senses was just too much to cope with. He gave in with a low moan, and reluctantly closed them again.

"Nurse, dim those lights, and pull the shades closed, would you?"

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Bobby felt a hand come to rest lightly on his shoulder.

"Try opening your eyes now, Bobby."

Finding that he didn't have the strength or the inclination to argue, Bobby simply complied. To his relief, the lights had been dimmed, and he found he could focus on his surroundings, as well as the face that hovered above his own.

"Jack…" he mumbled in a dazed greeting to his doctor, Jack Evans. Jack smiled a little.

"You must really love this place, Bobby. It's the only conceivable reason I can think of for why you keep getting yourself into such idiotic situations."

Bobby moaned again, this time in frustration.

"Can you save the lecture for when I'm awake?"

"Oh, don't you worry. I am. You're going to be getting an earful later on, I promise you. Right now, though, I need to talk to you. This is serious, Bobby. Can you stay with me, or do I need to wait?"

Bobby shuddered, and pulled himself forcibly back into a clearer state of mind.

"I'm okay. You can talk. This… It's my about my leg, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. You remember I warned you when you left hospital the first time about what might happen if your leg was broken again? That I told you it could result in permanent impairment?"

"I seem to recall the discussion," Bobby mumbled, knowing where the conversation was headed, and wishing heartily that he didn't.

"Yes, you remember it," Jack agreed. "Then, despite my warning you that you had to be careful, you went and broke it while you were in Britain!"

"That wasn't my fault," Bobby protested, hating how weak and pathetic his voice sounded to his own ears.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it was, Bobby!" Jack said with a shake of his head. "The point is that it happened. Now as it turned out, it wasn't as severe as I was afraid it might be and again, the damage was reparable. But then you had to go and break it again!"

"Get to the point," Bobby cut in softly. "Just come out and say it. It's never going to heal now, is it?"

Jack sighed audibly.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I really am. I was hoping for the best when they brought you in. I ran every x-ray and scan we had available before we took you in for surgery, and they all gave back the same results. So no, I'm afraid it's not good news. Not this time."

Bobby shut his eyes to conceal his distress, but it was a pointless effort. When he finally spoke, it was in a small, trembling voice.

"How bad is it?"

Jack hesitated before answering quietly. He knew from experience that there was no point in trying to keep the facts from Bobby. The detective had a way of finding things out, if it was not already something that he held in the incredible store of knowledge within his own mind.

"We had to completely remove a piece of the femur bone. It had splintered away from the bone, and broken into over a dozen smaller pieces. Whether that was caused by the walking you did, or in the original assault, I don't know and it doesn't really matter."

When Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but Jack cut him off.

"Don't argue with me, Bobby. This is not the time for it. And yes, I know what you did up on that mountain. I've already spoken to Commissioner Adkins. I know you picked yourself up and walked a good half a mile to reach your partner, and just between us I think you deserve a medal. But that's beside the point right now."

"The point is, I'm not going to recover from this," Bobby said dully. "That's what you're trying to say."

"Yes," Jack confirmed quietly. "I really am sorry, Bobby. The damage was just too severe this time. We can't repair it. You're always going to need a brace on your right leg. Now, there are measures we can take to minimise the long term impact of this on your life, but we can discuss that later when you've had a chance to come to terms with everything."

"Have you told anyone else yet?"

"Only Commissioner Adkins, and before you even start thinking about having to retire on a disability, I suggest you just wait and listen to what the Commissioner has to say about it.

Bobby regarded Jack dismally.

"What's it going to matter? What good am I going to be to anyone like this?"

Jack raised a single eyebrow quizzically as he stepped away from the bed.

"I said you'll always need a leg brace to walk, Detective. I didn't say you wouldn't be able to walk at all. And keeping that in mind, how is it any different now to the last several months? No, it's not going to be easy for you, but I also know for a fact that you're not one to run away from hard work. Just do yourself a favour, and think it over before you throw in the towel. All right?"

Bobby nodded wordlessly, though he looked less than certain. Jack smiled reassuringly at him.

"Good. That's all I'm asking. Now try and get some rest, and tomorrow I'll organise for Alex to be brought up to see you."

Bobby watched Jack go, and then slumped back in the bed, trying desperately to ignore the excruciating pain in his leg that the painkillers did precious little to ease.

Get some rest, Jack had said. That was rich, he thought bitterly. Jack wasn't the one faced with the prospect of unending pain.

Feeling sick, and more miserable than he'd ever imagined was possible, Bobby turned his attention to the window. The blinds were still drawn, though, stripping him even of the simple comfort of being able to look at the bright day outside. Consequently, the room was dark and gloomy, matching his bleak mood perfectly.

Despite Jack's words of reassurance, Bobby knew only too well what his prospects were for staying with the NYPD. He was likely to be faced with a hard choice between too equally unpleasant fates; either to stay and accept a desk job, or to retire on a disability pension.

Both possibilities were equally unpalatable to him.

He was just attempting to contemplate the likelihood of being more or less confined to his home when the door of his room opened, and Gerald Adkins walked in.

"Thought I wasn't supposed to have visitors until tomorrow," Bobby mumbled, suddenly too tired to be bothered with formalities. Adkins smiled faintly at the reception.

"I made a deal with your doctor. He lets me in to see you, and I don't shoot him."

Bobby laughed softly, despite his despondency. Adkins went on quickly, aware that Bobby's attention span was probably limited.

"There are a few things I thought you might like to know, Detective. Hopefully it might help to set your mind at ease. Firstly, Salinger is definitely dead. His body was found down river, and it was formally identified only twenty minutes ago. Secondly, Captain Deakins and Detective Eames are both going to be just fine."

Bobby sighed with audible relief.

"Thankyou, sir. I appreciate being told."

Adkins nodded.

"I thought you might. One last thing, though, before I get chased out of here…"

Bobby drew in an unsteady breath and braced himself silently for what he imagined could not possibly be good news. Adkins noticed, and had to swallow an urge to smile.

"I don't doubt you're probably wondering about the viability of your position within the Major Case Squad. I'm not going to leave you hanging on uncertainties. I'm telling you right now that your job will be there for you when you've completed rehab, and you're ready to go back to work."

Bobby gaped at him, unable to stop himself.

"But… I…"

"Individually, you are an exceptional detective. So is Detective Eames. When you work together, you're unsurpassed in just about every way. You're the best we have, Goren, you and Eames both. If you think I'm going to stand back and allow the dissolution of one of the best partnerships the NYPD has seen for a long time, then I'd be inclined to think your dosage of painkillers is far too high. Seriously, though, you really are a great detective. It shouldn't matter whether or not you need a leg brace and a cane to be able to walk. It hasn't mattered so far, and I don't see why that should be the case now. Honestly, the only person who did care was Salinger, and his opinion hardly matters anymore, does it?"

"N… No," Bobby stammered, staring at Adkins with a mixture of stunned disbelief, and relief. Finally, Adkins allowed himself to relax and smile as he saw Bobby slowly coming to accept what he had just heard.

"The bottom line, Goren, is that you're still an asset to the NYPD. As long as that prodigious mind of yours is still functioning at full capacity, you still have plenty to offer, and that will continue to be the case until such a time as _you_ decide you're ready to retire. Understand?"

Bobby nodded, and finally managed to find his voice.

"Yes, sir. Thankyou."

"My pleasure. Now, get some rest. I'll stop by again tomorrow, if I can."

Bobby watched with a tired smile as Adkins headed for the door. The Commissioner was almost out of the room when he paused mid-stride, and looked back in at the injured detective.

"Just for reference, Goren, what would you like me to say if I happen to get another call from David Letterman?"

Bobby grimaced.

"Do I really need to answer that?"

Adkins laughed. "Okay, I'll tell him, but he might just bypass me this time and turn up here at the hospital with a camera crew."

"Can I have my gun?" Bobby asked, with little hope. Adkins' grin widened.

"Get some rest, Detective. I'll fend off the media. But you owe me."

Bobby smiled to himself as he settled back in the bed and shut his eyes.

"I'll add you to the list," he murmured to himself as he felt sleep start to take hold of him once more. His last thought before he slipped back into the peacefulness of sleep was one of gratitude for the good people all around him that made his life so much more bearable.

* * *

_The following morning,  
__just before noon_

"…water therapy is going to be absolutely vital. We'll get you swimming just as soon as those pins come out."

Alex leaned forward a little in the wheelchair as she was pushed towards her partner's room, listening to what she could of the conversation from within.

"How am I supposed to manage swimming?" Bobby was asking. "You put me in a pool, and I'm not going to be able to get back out again."

Someone laughed, and as the orderly pushed her around the corner and into the room, Alex saw it was Bobby's physiotherapist, Luke Travis, along with Dr Jack Evans. Both men were laughing, while Bobby was looking like he wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or embarrassed.

"That's what ramps are for, Bobby," Jack said with an amused shake of his head. "Most indoor pools now have them. But the pool in the rehab wing is specially designed. You won't have any trouble getting in and out."

"And believe me," Luke added, "once you've had one session of hydrotherapy, you'll be want to spend as much time as possible in there. It'll strengthen your leg without putting unnecessary pressure on the limb, and it'll go a long way towards keeping the muscles in your leg from atrophying."

Bobby frowned.

"If it's so good, why haven't I had hydrotherapy before now?"

"Because," Luke answered, "before our aims were different. We were working towards one hundred percent recovery. Our aims have changed. Now, we're aiming at ongoing maintenance, for want of a better word. We're going to keep you on your feet, Bobby, but it's going to mean continued care. And that, in turn, calls for a different approach to your therapy."

"Every day?" Bobby asked, despondent at the idea of having to undergo painful physio on a daily basis potentially for the rest of his life.

"To start with, yes," Luke conceded. "But the further along we get, the more spaced out the sessions will be. There might be periods when you're having a particularly bad time of it, and we'll have to schedule more regular sessions. On the other hand, there'll be times when you're doing well, and you won't need frequent physio. It's nothing I, or anyone else, can predict. We're going to have to play it entirely by ear, Bobby. All I want from you is a promise that you aren't going to quit on me, because how effective it is will depend very much on you. I need you to promise that you'll put a hundred percent effort into this, every time."

"Don't worry," Alex said abruptly. "He will."

Bobby looked over at her, and the glum expression on his face dissolved into a warm smile. Jack chuckled.

"We'll take that as a yes, Luke. C'mon. Let's leave these two alone."

Alex watched them go, then looked back at Bobby.

"They don't think that we're… you know… do they?"

Bobby shrugged.

"Don't know. Don't care. Are you okay?"

Alex smiled, and pushed herself carefully out of the wheelchair. Leaning across the bed, she slipped her arms around him, and hugged him fiercely.

"I'm fine," she murmured, planting a light kiss on his cheek before drawing back again. He frowned, his gaze going to the severe bruising visible beneath her hair, and he reached out tentatively. She swatted his hand away gently. "I said I'm fine. I have a killer migraine, but other than that, I'm okay. I wish I could say the same for you, though."

His gaze went unwillingly to his damaged leg, and the metal pins inserted into the bone through the flesh. It was the third time he'd had to have the pins, and he hoped to God it was the last.

"I knew," he said softly, his voice shaking just slightly, "as soon as he broke it… I knew that was it."

"It might still have been okay, though," she argued. "But you went after him to save me. You know, they're all still trying to work out how you managed to walk on a broken leg."

A bitter smile quirked his lips. "That was nothing compared to climbing that slope with two broken legs. Besides, if it had just been Salinger on his own, I wouldn't have bothered. But he had you. I couldn't just lie there and do nothing."

"Bobby…"

He regarded her with a slightly puzzled look, sensing she was preparing to make some sort of confession.

"What is it?" he pressed gently when she hesitated.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her gaze dropping. Bobby stared at her, confused.

"For what?"

"This… All of this. It's my fault."

For one of the few times in his life, Bobby Goren was rendered speechless. He stared at Alex, his mouth moving but no sound came out. Slowly, Alex looked back up at him, and was momentarily struck by the comical expression on his face. Before she could help it, a short laugh escaped her.

A grin tugged at the corners of Bobby's mouth, and a moment later, both were laughing helplessly.

"Stop it!" Alex choked out, her eyes watering as she struggled to reign in her laughter. "I was trying to be serious!"

"You laughed first," Bobby shot back at her, a wide grin on his face despite the pain of the cut on the side of his face.

"Only because you looked so dopey," Alex said in between gasping bursts of laughter. "Sitting there, opening and closing your mouth… You looked like a guppy!"

"Gee, thanks, Alex," Bobby said, but the smirk remained. Alex shook her head as she finally managed to get a hold of herself, and stop laughing.

"I was trying to apologise, you jerk."

"So you said. You want to elaborate on 'everything'? That's pretty broad."

Alex sighed softly. "We knew to expect trouble from Salinger. Deakins and Adkins both warned us not to get caught alone with him, but that's exactly what I let happen. I should never have gone outside, and left you in the room alone. My stupidity nearly got you killed, Bobby. And then I insisted on going with them to watch Salinger being caught and arrested. I put myself right in his path, _again_, and that nearly got us both killed. I screwed up badly, Bobby. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here in this bed now…"

She was silenced very abruptly when he placed his hand firmly over her mouth. Her eyes widened a little in surprise, and even more so when she saw the warm smile on his face.

"Stop it," he told her quietly, firmly. "Just… stop right there, Alex. Don't you dare go blaming yourself for anything that happened. It wasn't your fault. You want to blame someone? Blame Salinger. He's the one who's entirely at fault. You know he is. And as for me being in this bed now… I honestly don't think it would have turned out any differently even if you had stayed with me. Salinger would have found a way to take us down. It was his sole purpose. You didn't nearly get us killed. If it weren't for you, I _would_ be dead. That shotgun was aimed at me. You saved my life. Alex, _you_ saved _my_ life. I can't ever thank you enough for that."

She reached up and gently removed his hand from her mouth. Tears glistened in her eyes, but didn't fall.

"I don't want to lose you, Bobby."

His smile widened as he suddenly realised what she was afraid of.

"Hasn't anyone talked to you yet?"

"Who? And talked to me about what?" she asked with a frown.

"Commissioner Adkins spoke to me yesterday, Alex. I don't have to take a desk job, and they're not going to push me out on a disability pension. As soon as I'm able to, I'll be back at Major Case, with you. I'm not going anywhere."

Tears flooded her eyes as he pulled her in for another hug.

"Gee, it would have been nice to have been told that yesterday," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "Then I wouldn't have had to stay awake most of last night worrying about it."

"I'm sorry," Bobby murmured. "I should have asked Commissioner Adkins to tell you. By the time he left here yesterday, though, I was just about at the end of it. After he left, I didn't wake up again until later this morning."

"It's okay," she told him.

"And as for this nonsense about _anything_ being your fault…"

"I let myself get depressed," she countered quickly. "I didn't know what was going to happen, Bobby. I was scared."

He nodded in sympathetic understanding.

"So was I. I still am, I guess. But at least I have something to aim for. And getting back to work finally is a major goal."

Alex bit down lightly on her lower lip.

"It's over, isn't it? I mean, it's really over."

He knew what she meant without having to ask her to elaborate.

"Yeah. It's over. We walked away from it this time. We took control, and we were able to walk away."

She sighed softly as she rested her head against his chest.

"I have a feeling the nightmares might finally start to ease off now. I mean… we're never going to forget it, but we don't have to let the memories paralyse us anymore, do we?"

"No, we don't," he agreed. "And I think you're probably right about the nightmares, too. Alex…?"

"Mm?"

"Thankyou."

She drew back a little from him, and looked up at him, puzzled.

"What for?"

He stared back at her, his own eyes tearing up visibly.

"For being there for me. Not just over the last year… I mean right from when we first met… from our first day as partners. For everything."

It was her turn to smile.

"Everything? That's pretty broad, Bobby."

He smiled.

"I mean it, though. Thankyou, for everything."

She leaned back into him, feeling his arms enclose her in a protective hug, and she smiled with contentment that she had not felt for a long, long time.

"Everything's going to be fine. You'll be coming back at work, where you belong… And Salinger's dead. Now, as long as the other keep their traps shut about us plotting to kill him…"

A ripple of laughter passed through Bobby.

"It's okay. We had witnesses. IAB will never know the truth."

She snorted, then laughed.

"Stop it, you goof."

Bobby sighed, then drew back from her, still smiling.

"Come up here, will you? I'm getting a sore back leaning over."

She grinned, and climbed up onto the bed beside him. The two wrapped their arms around each other, and sank down onto the narrow bed, comfortably entwined.

"You know, we're screwed if any of the brass walk in right now?" Alex asked.

"Couldn't care less," Bobby murmured, his eyes starting to droop as sleep began to take hold. "On the other hand, if Letterman were to walk in, that would be another story…"

"Letterman?" Alex echoed, startled. "Why would he walk in?"

Bobby's eyes flickered open briefly as he struggled to stay awake long enough to finish the conversation.

"Mm… Adkins said he'd… fend him off… Couldn't promise it, though…"

Alex laughed softly as Bobby fell asleep against her, and she settled down properly beside him. Right then, she didn't care who happened to walk in on them. She and her partner were safe, and could finally move on with their lives. The nightmare was over with and, God willing, they would never have to lay eyes on Gore Mountain again.

Bobby would be able to return to work, she didn't have to face the prospect of a new partner…

The relieved smile on her lips twisted into a tiny smirk. She would have to take Deakins to task later on. She had been to visit him before coming to see Bobby, and he had failed to mention anything about Adkins working things so that Bobby could stay on at Major Case. What he had told her was that Bishop had been in to see him earlier that morning and had submitted her resignation from the Squad. Apparently she had been approached by a newly formed investigative branch of the NYPD, and had decided to take the offer of a position with them.

Briefly, Alex had been concerned that she would be left to partner Logan, even if it was only on a temporary basis. As much as she liked the guy, she wasn't sure she could handle him as a partner.

Deakins had assured her, though, that that wouldn't be the case. He already had another detective in mind to bring in as a new partner for Logan; a woman by the name of Carolyn Barek, who apparently had two years' experience under her belt, liaising with the FBI.

Alex was intrigued by the idea of having another female detective around, and looked forward to seeing what she was like. In the meantime, though, she would be there to help Bobby through his rehab, and eventually they would be back at work – together, right where they belonged.

Slowly, her eyes slid shut as sleep took her in its tender arms, but the smile remained on her lips as a last, comforting thought slipped through her mind. Yes, everything was just as it should be. They were going to be just fine.

* * *

_Fin...  
(For now...)_


End file.
